She Wants to Play Hearts
by Chedea
Summary: Can love save a life or only postpone death? Edward, captain of rebel troops is ordered to kill his danger magnet captive. Bella asks for a last wish of a little time, knowing to save herself she must make Edward fall in love with her. Will it be enough?
1. Ensnared

**Reader: ****Why Chedea, is this ANOTHER new story?**

**Chedea: Well, kind of. It is a long story.**

**R: I like your stories. Do tell.**

**C: Well, you see Reader, I wrote this story a while ago, just finished it recently actually. However, I wrote it under a different penname...**

**R: Why would you do that?**

**C: Because, it was my first try at M rated fiction, and I was a little nervous that it would be awful, and not up to par with my usual writing, so I decided ot publish it elsewhere, under the penname Alaryan. But, I like it so much now that I wanted to share it with my faithful readers, because I figured you would want to see it.**

**R: Well, yeah, I do actually. So, you are saying that this story and the one of the same title by Alaryan are the same story, but you didnt plagarize because Alaryan is actually the same person as you?**

**C: That is exactly what I am saying. I will keep it under both names for about a week, and then it will be published solely under this penname to eliminate any future confusion.**

**R: Okay, I think I understand. I'm going to go read now.**

**C: Excellent. Have fun!**

**That short conversation between myself and you, the reader (I inserted your lines, hope you don't mind) basically explains the situation. If you have any questions/comments/concerns, please, feel free to contact me however you see fit. This story is just another shot of inspiration. It is M because of a lemon coming up in a future chapter. I hope you enjoy it. A special thanks to my wonderful friend LaLaLovely47 for her continued support and encouragement.**

**Happy reading!**

She was bound, a hand over her face, dirtying her rose colored mouth. She was tempted to bite the person whose grime and dirt covered fingers were preventing her from screaming, but she already had bruises as proof of what they would do to her if she tried anything like that. She wasn't about to incur another injury.

She walked as she was directed to walk, pressed close to another body as it walked her forward, forcing her on a path she couldn't look at because of the blindfold over her eyes. The blindfold was good. It meant that they might let her go later; they were making sure she wasn't able to see where they were taking her so she couldn't tell anyone about it. It made her hopeful. She hadn't been doing anything, had just been walking through the forest on a woods path near her house when all of a sudden there were crashing noises, loud and rampaging and suddenly men, men everywhere, surrounding her on all sides and she couldn't run. There was nothing she _could_ do. So she put her hands up and said nothing as some of them descended on her, binding her hands with rope behind her back, and then placing the blindfold over her eyes. They had been walking for a few minutes when she heard other people, maybe the forces that were fighting the rebels. She screamed for help. She heard one of the men laugh before hitting her, on her back and stomach. Then she just got shoved forward and decided against anything else of the kind.

At first she hadn't realized what was going on, but as they were walking it occurred to her. She had been walking through a mostly abandoned part of the woods. This group must have been a scouting party. They found her and at first she thought that they just needed to get rid of anyone who had seen them in the forest, but they didn't kill her right away. She argued with herself that perhaps they were taking her somewhere her body wouldn't be found. But then she began to hear voices again getting louder with each of her steps.

Another ten steps perhaps and she was stopped, the hand over her mouth removed, the blindfold taken off of her face. The rope around her wrists however, stayed. Someone spoke of fetching the captain and she waited in disdain, knowing that things were not necessarily looking up for her, that she needed a miracle. But she found none as a man emerged, the captain, she knew, just by the way the atmosphere shifted. Soldiers stood at attention, stiffness filled the air around them. She felt tense as she was put on her knees. She bit back the urge to wince as the ground hit her knees and wounded her pride.

"What is this?" a voice asked. She looked in the direction it came from and found a man, one she didn't know quite what to do with. He was tall, not too broad but still solid. He wasn't ugly, just imposing. In fact, ugly was an awful word to describe him. He was too perfectly constructed for that. She could tell being rugged, living the life he had he was obviously a little rough around the edges, but she could see the true beauty of his person there lurking on the hazy boundaries on his face and his body, like an aura that floated along with him. There was hardness in his green eyes, flecks of soot from stoking a fire on his face, hands and in his hair, but she didn't care. She stared. She couldn't help herself. He looked back, but not in the same amazement. He looked upon her in annoyance.

"Why did you bring this woman here?" he asked, and his voice sounded like thunder, not that it was tremendously deep, only rich and thick and rumbling. The man who had been holding his hand over her mouth spoke up.

"She saw us while we were scouting. There weren't any troops to be found as far as the farms to the north, but there was this little thing wandering by herself. She could have reported us. But usually you have a policy about women and children…"

The man trailed off and his captain looked at him skeptically. There was a moment of pause.

"So you let this woman see you while scouting, and instead of taking care of the problem yourself by not getting caught in the first place, you kidnap her and take her to our camp instead. What an excellent idea you've had, James."

The condescension in his tone stung even her skin as the captain spoke and it wasn't even directed at her. James said nothing. The captain sighed.

"What am I supposed to do with her now? I cannot let her go back to where she was, now knowing where the camp is, but I don't desire to kill an innocent woman either," he said as if trying to explain his internal quandary.

"I would appreciate it if you did not talk about me as though I were not here," she said angrily. The captain looked at her, shock in his eyes and expression, as though he had assumed her mute.

"She speaks," he mused, mocking in his tone. She glowered.

"Correct, now, I would like to demand my immediate release, as well as the cessation of being bound. This rope is chafing most uncomfortably," she told him.

He stared at her, like she had spoken another language.

Then, he laughed. She glowered some more.

"That was not a joke."

"That is why it was funny."

She wanted to scream in frustration. She withheld because she was sure he would find it amusing. His mocking laughter was as abrasive as the ropes around her wrists.

"What is your name, little one?" he asked her, as though she were some kind of child.

"Bella Swan," she replied with a hiss. He nodded.

"Your father, he owns the mill two miles north, yes?"

She nodded.

"He supplies troops that kill my men," the captain said.

"Your men killed his brother, his best friend, and made my best friend's father into a cripple. Do not ask for sympathy when you offer none."

The captain looked at her.

"Bella Swan, my name is Edward Cullen. I have no idea what to do with you, and so I am going to contact my superior. He will tell me what I should do, and when he does, I will do what he says. Until he replies you will remain in this camp. You will not make trouble for my men. You will do what you are told. I do not like to harm women, but I will not tolerate insolence, do you understand me?"

Bella nodded. She had not the words to express her rage, frustration, and hate for this man. Her father would be worried now, wondering where she was. He would be pacing the kitchen, waiting for her to come home. He would get hungry without her; he didn't know how to cook. Bella felt desolate as the captain walked away. It didn't matter how attractive he might have been on the outside, the emptiness, the personality masked it and made him ugly. She watched his back as he retreated and oh how she _hated_ him.

* * *

Days passed. Edward Cullen had sent out a letter to his direct superior the day she had arrived on the camp and since then she had been making herself scarce around him, not because she was afraid, but because she knew she would get so angry she was likely to grab a sword and run him through with it, even though she hadn't half an idea of how to use one.

She found ways to occupy her time, however. They had removed the bindings after she was told she was going to have to stay, and she had amused herself for a while trying to cook with the meager supplied available. She only saw Edward a few times from afar, and each time she did he gave her the same amused look he had given her after she spoke for the first time, like she was some toy he was about to get to play with for the first time and he wasn't quite sure how to make her work.

She detested him for it. That and a million other reasons made her hate him. So she just worked on trying to cook and fill her day with something other than boredom as she was filled with more hate and distrust every moment she stayed in their camp. She had to sleep on the ground, which was uncomfortable at best, and freezing cold unless she managed to get a spot right by the fire. She ate only what was left over, which left her feeling almost faint with hunger most days. And she was bored, endlessly, awfully, ridiculously bored.

The men had things to do that didn't involve food, they went on missions, raids, attacks, many things she didn't want to hear about but couldn't help when they boasted so loud she couldn't possibly close her ears off enough. She hated that she was even a part of this place enough to know what they were doing from day to day, much less living with the scoundrels. Luckily no one bothered her much, even if they made jokes about her, made comments about how much they would love just one night alone with her when the captain was away so they could amuse themselves. But they were all too scared to do something like that, she knew. They wouldn't try anything because even if Edward didn't like her, and she knew he didn't, he would flay anyone who tried to hurt her. He hadn't been even close to kidding about his women and children policy.

It was the fifth day she had been at the stupid camp of theirs when a group of men, Edward included returned from a raid to get food, scraped and banged from head to toe. They had the food they had set out for but it seemed they paid for it in injuries. Nothing too major, annoyances really, but enough to cause a flock of men to migrate to the medical tent.

"Those villagers can be vicious," one of them said when their comrades asked what had happened. They all laughed, like it was some inside joke. Bella scowled, but nonetheless she sat on the tree stump that she occupied most of the time by the fire near the medical tent and watched as each of the men in need of medical attention went into the tent and fetched bandaging and one of them a sling.

Edward just walked past her, nursing an ugly gash on his forearm. Bella thought it served him right for being such a self righteous bastard and keeping her hostage. But when he exited the tent and sat a little bit away from her, trying to wrap his injury, she sighed and rolled her eyes at his incompetence.

"You are doing that wrong," she said with a mocking bite in her voice. She honestly couldn't help herself. If she had one chance to be condescending with him she was going to take it. At first, Edward looked up as though he had no idea who had spoken to him, but when his eyes set on her, he smiled broadly.

"Is that right, Bella Swan? Well then, please, show me the correct way."

He said the words as though he expected her not to know, and to his defense he had no way of knowing that her close friend Rosalie had been a nurse to the troops and taught Bella almost everything she knew. So Bella walked over to Edward defiantly, and took the bandage in her hand. She wrapped it tightly and carefully around his injury, making sure there was enough pressure for it to stop bleeding, and then tied it above the gash to keep the pressure there until it was healed. It was neatly bandaged, and clean since her fingers were not covered in the same dirt his were. He looked up at her from where he was sitting, surprised to say the least, impressed to say the most.

"Were you a nurse?" he asked. She didn't know why he cared. She shook her head. She explained about Rosalie and he nodded in brief appreciation for her skills. He lingered one extra moment, a strange moment where his eyes were mysteriously impossible to read. He then rose, thanked her in a cursory way and walked off, leaving her to look at his back once again. He was an insensitive, arrogant bastard of a man and Bella wanted nothing more than to have bandaged him incorrectly and let him bleed to death in his sleep. But she didn't. She bandaged him correctly, regarded his flesh tenderly. She hated that she had helped him. Perhaps it would help her if she gained his trust; if she won him over he might not murder her. She wasn't sure, but he did not seem the type to be able to kill a helpless innocent woman. She hoped not, for her sake.

Another week passed, and Bella found that she could occupy herself in another way, by overseeing the medical care of the men at the camp. They had one medic, but he could only do so much and was busy with the more critical injuries or illnesses. She could look over minor cuts and scrapes to make sure they did not get an infection. She could make sure breaks and fractures were healing correctly and treat minor illness. It was, all in all, more satisfying than stirring a pot. If she wasn't mistaken there was even a sense of general respect that hung around her. Even though she knew she wasn't necessarily liked, one could hardly hate her for caring for their wounds and sickness.

It was after two weeks of being present in the camp that she had her second interaction with Edward since her arrival. She was just finishing setting a broken finger when she was tapped on the shoulder. When she saw Edward standing over her she nearly jumped out of her skin in surprise.

"Jumpy are we?" he asked smugly.

"No, I just do not particularly enjoy being snuck up upon is all," she answered. He smiled a little and then held up his arm.

"I need to be re-bandaged," he informed her. She looked at the bandage he already had, at how worn it had become, and dirty.

"That you do; sit down."

Edward sat and she slowly began the work of bandaging him again, careful not to disrupt the clotting and cause a new bleed to begin.

"You are awfully useful to have around, Bella Swan," he told her as he watched her work. She grunted.

"It is too bad, I have gotten the letter from my superior today," he said nonchalantly. Bella immediately looked up, hope in her eyes.

"Oh calm those doe eyes, I haven't read it yet. His messenger brought it to me just ten minutes ago. I thought I would come get my bandages changed and then we could discover your fate. I needed to retrieve you anyway."

Bella nodded and did a more hurried job than she normally would have. It didn't mean the work was not good, just that she wasn't quite as careful with him as she had been before. But he wasn't getting an infection and it was healing up nicely, she didn't feel the need to be tender. She just wanted to know what was going to happen to her now.

"Careful, Bella, I am an injured man," he said, wincing as she tied the bandage too tightly over the wound.

"You are being a child," she told him as she went and redid it, tightly but not to hurt him. He smiled and rolled his eyes at her and she felt the swell of dislike rise in her throat again, the one that made her want to slap him. But as soon as she had finished he rose and they both made their way to his private tent, his living space small but tidy. There was a cot in the corner, a small hand-made wooden table in the other corner and a fire in the middle, the smoke rising through a hole in the tent. On the table Bella could see the envelope with Edward's name on it, and she felt desperate to open it. She just wanted to go home. She _needed_ to go home, a place where she wasn't followed by leers of some men and disdain by others. A place she belonged, where she felt safe.

So Edward must have noticed how eager she was, because he handed her the envelope and she tore the paper out of it. She read the beginning lines, about patriotism and chain of command and making the right decision asking for advice. She didn't care about any of that.

So she skimmed to the bottom and looked for something that would help her discern the answer to her prayers. And then she read a sentence. And then she dropped the letter. Edward picked it up and read it for himself, at the end of it he swore, reading the words that were now burned into Bella's mind like they had been branded into her, never to be forgotten.

_She knows too much; you must kill her._

_Kill her._

She felt sick, like all of her insides were gone, and simultaneously like they were all trying to force themselves out her throat.

She was going to die.

She was going to _die_.

And the man to kill her was looking at her across the tent, disbelief and something like panic in his eyes.

* * *

**So what did you think? Review and let me know! :)**

* * *


	2. Lesson One

**Hello readers! I'm so glad you're here, really I am. I'm glad that my shenanigans regarding posting this didn't scare you away. I hope you have all found this satisfactory so far. This was a really fun chapter to write, specifically some of the second half...you will understand why. Happy reading!**

She couldn't think. She could hardly breathe. She looked across the tent at Edward, at his hands, big enough and capable of strangling her. She saw the knife he kept strapped to his side, sharp enough to slit her throat before she would be able to draw a breath to even scream. She held herself together, quieting the sudden shaking that had come over her.

She couldn't die now, not now, she hadn't gotten to do anything, hadn't swum naked at the full moon the way she and Rosalie had joked about since they were little girls, hadn't learned how to throw a good punch like Rosalie's brother Jasper insisted she should know, after she had gotten accosted by some drunken men six months prior. She was a danger magnet, everyone said so. This incident, this being captured for being in the wrong place at the wrong time and now being condemned to _death_ was proof of that if there ever was any.

But she didn't want to die, not before she had time to do the things that she had always wanted to achieve. Swimming naked and throwing a good punch were only two of many things she had wished to accomplish before dying. She simply wouldn't accept it. She might have been a danger magnet, but the other thing people agreed upon when they spoke of Bella was that she was stubborn. She got it from her father they all said. She didn't care where she got it from in that moment though, what she cared about was whether her infamous stubbornness would get her out of this situation of imminent death, even if it was only long enough to find a way to escape.

"Bella," Edward said. There was not a sense of steeled resolve in his voice, nor was there calmness, roughness, or even kindness. His voice was empty. He was devoid of feeling at this juncture. She didn't understand how. She was filled with it, brimming over with emotions. There was more than enough in her to fill both him and her both, and it made her unbelievably angry that he was so goddamn empty when her life was very literally in his hands at that moment.

"That is all you have to say? Bella? That's it? Not good enough, not when I am about to be _killed_ it isn't. You cannot possibly expect me to sit here, have you say my name and suddenly accept this fate that _you_ ordained; you and your idiocy, needing to ask for help when you should have just let me go. _Why couldn't you have just let me go?_"

Tears slid down her cheeks. Edward looked away and then reached into his pocket and produced a handkerchief, handing it over to her. She didn't bother to ask where he had gotten it or what in God's name he was doing with a handkerchief, one so crisp and clean in his pocket. She just took it, balling it up in her hand. She wanted to rip it up and throw it on the ground to show him how angry she was. But she knew that doing so would prove nothing.

"Stop crying," he instructed her quietly.

"I will cry if I damn well please," she practically shouted back. Edward winced. She had never seen him wince. She had heard him hiss when she tied the bandage too tightly over his wound, saw him nurse a wound, but never flinch like he had just then. She didn't care. She just wanted to get out of here. She wanted to be back in her bed, waking up from this nightmare.

She had to think. She needed an idea, something to buy her some time until she could manage to find a way out of this camp. She had been closely watched, not guarded by one man specifically, but watched by all of them as she had gone about amusing herself in their camp through her days. She could convince one of them, surely one of them, to let her go, to bring her out of there and release her. If she had to promise her first born she would if only they would help her escape. But what she needed right then was to convince Edward that she needed to stay alive, just a little longer.

"I do not know what to tell you other than I am sorry," he admitted to her quietly. She almost screamed at him. He was sorry? That was nothing. It didn't matter. His condolences wouldn't make her any less dead.

"How about, 'Bella I will close my eyes and count to a _ten thousand_ and if you aren't here when I open them again I will forget all about you and leave you alone'?" she suggested. He looked at her and tried to smile, like he thought she was telling some kind of joke.

"You know I can't do that," Edward said, finally realizing she had been serious. Bella sighed. She had to _think_.

"It isn't as though I _want_ this, I don't want to…I have a strict policy about killing women and children, we don't do it, not my soldiers. But…this is a direct order, I cannot just be insubordinate."

Bella laughed humorlessly.

"So my life is less important than your following the rules to the letter?"

"That is not what I am saying," he argued.

"What _are_ you saying?"

"If I don't do what they are telling me I have to, it could and very likely would be my neck, literally. The higher ups are not very forgiving when it comes to insubordination."

So it was his life or hers. And he was choosing his. It didn't surprise her. He didn't know her well enough to care if she lived or died, it would only make sense he would choose self preservation. But that meant that she had to _make_ him care if she lived or died, had to make it something that was intertwined with his fate so very intricately that her death would feel like his death, so he would protect her, whatever came.

She had to make Edward fall in love with her.

She knew it wouldn't be something she could do in a few minutes time. She would need weeks. But she wasn't sure how she was going to get that much time, time enough to make sure that he fell for her, and hard enough. She felt awful using him like that, but if he loved her, he wouldn't let her die. And just as he had chosen self preservation when given the chance between his life and hers, so did she then as she looked at him.

"Then seeing as you have already made up your mind about what is going to happen to me, may I at least ask for a favor?" she inquired. Edward raised an eyebrow at her and then nodded.

"Since that letter did not dictate _when_ you had to kill me, I want to ask for time."

"Time?" he asked.

"There are things I have not yet gotten to do that I wish I could, and I would appreciate it if you would allow me some time in which to do them," she told him.

"Things like what, exactly?"

"I want to learn how to throw a punch. I want to swim under the full moon. I want to dance in a thunderstorm. There are a lot of things. I don't expect to be able to do each of them, I am not that naïve to think you can give me years, but you can give me time, Edward. I know you can."

"Bella, I think you are under the misapprehension that I am capable of doing things that I cannot, that no one can do for you. I can't stay an order of execution, even if I wanted to," he argued mildly. She could see she was losing the grip she had gotten on him when she had mentioned time. He wasn't interested in the fantasies she had about last wishes. She had to make him interested.

"No one knows that you received that letter, no one knows that I am to be killed, not yet. Give me a few weeks, a month at most, just some time to accept this, to do the things I want to do before I die. I know I cannot escape it, I understand that, let me live these last few weeks in my own way."

Edward looked at her, hard eyes, grim thin line of a mouth.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it has been keeping you safe here for even these weeks?" he asked. Bella didn't know what he was talking about. Since when was her safety any concern of his? He was, after all, keeping her captive. She kept silent and he sighed, turning from her and going to sit on the cot in the corner. Bella remained on her feet.

"This group of men, we believe in something, Bella. They call us rebels because we don't follow the order that was laid down by unjust men who know nothing justice, or equality. But we are just trying to do what is right, by our families, by our fellow people, by each other. But even men who believe in something, men with a noble cause as we all believe ourselves to be, are still men. I had half a mind to murder James on the spot when he brought you into this camp. A few hundred men who have barely laid eyes on a women, let alone one as…appealing as you are, who are starved for female attention, and some who given time and provocation enough will give in to their baser needs and take what they want. I do not allow the murder of innocent women and I certainly do not allow rape in my camp―"

"Rape?" Bella gasped out.

Edward nearly rolled his eyes.

"What did you think I was talking about? Some of those men are married; some of them have sweethearts back home and don't want you. But some of them do not, or do not care about who was left behind. I had to put out an order that basically told each and every one of them that if they touched you, hurt you in any way, I would charge them with insubordination and willful sedition."

Bella stared, openly. She had seen him that first day and saw the beauty him that stayed on the fringe of his being, nearly stomped to death by his lifestyle and what she had subsequently seen as his harsh personality. But when she looked at him then she saw it again, something other than the hardness he spoke and acted with, something striking. It was the only way it made sense. Why else would he care about her welfare? He was going to kill her. If he didn't care enough to spare her life, why should he spare her feelings or anything else for that matter?

It wasn't to say she wasn't thankful for the order he had given, to spare her the trauma, especially now that she knew her untimely death was rushing toward her. Because she _was_ grateful, more than grateful even she just didn't understand.

"Thank you, Edward, for what you did for me. You have no reason to care about me; I'm just some woman, unlucky to my death it would seem. But you have done me one immense favor, and now I have to ask you for one more."

"I do not, as rule, do people favors. I exchange goods or services for my deeds," Edward said. Bella looked at him, and she felt her desperation rise in her throat again, choking her on the fear she felt, but also the _need_ she had to survive. She would do anything.

"I don't have anything to give you," she said quietly. "Perhaps in this one case you could make an exception. Who will I be able to tell, I'll be dead after all."

Edward caught her joking tone, and looked at her severely, as though he disapproved of her speaking about death so nonchalantly. But what else was she supposed to do?

"On one condition, Bella, and this you must follow beyond anything else, do you understand me?"

She nodded quickly.

"I will grant you time, claim I never received the letter or that it was accidentally destroyed, and you must of course act as though you haven't the slightest idea what I am talking about, under the condition that you never find yourself alone with any of the men in this camp unless I specifically direct it. I know which men to trust and in whose hands I would not put you. Stay in groups, stay close to me if you can, and I can give you time, a month at the most and even that would be a stretch. But I can try."

"Thank you," Bella said earnestly. Edward got up, ran his hands through his already ridiculously, uncontrollably disheveled hair and sighed.

"Don't thank me yet, little Bella."

She wanted to ask what he meant when he said that, but she didn't have a chance. He walked past her out of the tent, into the daylight and groups of men. Bella produced a sigh of her own and followed suit, returning to the medical tenet to treat any of the men who needed her help.

* * *

Two days passed and Edward said not a word to Bella. She hadn't ever heard him speak so much as he had in his tent and so his silence in her general direction made perfect sense. They needed to maintain normalcy. No one could know that he was disregarding a direct order, not even his most trusted men. The only thing Bella noticed, and hoped no one else picked up on, was Edward's proximity to her. His presence, be it directly at her side or in her peripheral vision had become a constant thing. She got used to feeling his eyes on her when she was walking through camp, or feeling him sidle up next to her at the medical tent, talking to his men but keeping himself close to her. If anyone thought it strange, she did not hear it, even when she overheard other more gruesome things.

But those two days were torturous. She knew she had her time; she was still alive even though an order for her death had come through. Her main plan was still to make Edward fall for her, but she could see he was a hard man. A seduction on her part would likely be fumbled and awkward and not yield the desired result. She needed to spend time alone with him, to get to know him, get an insight into the man he was below the surface of Captain Edward Cullen, the persona he loved most to show. If she couldn't do that, she was going to have to come up with another plan.

But as luck would have it, and on her side for once, when she was at the medical tent one day Edward came in to have his wound looked at and waited for her to be done with another man before seating himself in front of her, holding out his arm.

When she unwrapped his wound she saw that it was nearly healed. She re-bandaged him lightly, being ginger. He thanked her. And the unexpectedly grabbed her hand, shaking it lightly. When he drew his hand away, there was a slip of paper in it. Bella almost laughed. He was a sneaky bastard.

_Come to my tent tonight, after most of the men have gone to sleep._

She read the note twice, to make sure she knew exactly what it said, and then she dropped it in the fire outside the medical tent when she took a break to get some fresh air.

The day passed too quickly.

Bella had not the slightest idea what to expect. He was asking her to come see him at night, alone? What did that mean? Was he going to try to take her to bed? When he said he told his men they weren't allowed to touch her, perhaps he hadn't included himself in that rule. The sudden idea of being forced to bed as a service in return for his granting her time was terrifying. That hadn't been part of the agreement; he hadn't said she would have to do that to keep her life. There was sickness and dread in her stomach as night fell. She was too worried to eat. She didn't speak. It wasn't as though she was usually a part of conversation, but even if someone had tried to draw her in as they occasionally did, she was far too withdrawn to speak. When the men began to go to sleep, resting up for a raid they were going on the next day, she began to tremble. When they were most of them asleep she rose, and with shaking legs and weak knees made her way to Edward's tent.

There was no way to knock before going in, so Bella merely lifted the flap a sufficient amount and stepped in. The firelight kept it bright enough inside. Edward had his back to her and she said nothing for a moment.

"Good evening, Bella," he said not turning around just then. Bella mumbled something in response and Edward chuckled and then faced her, a book in his hands.

"Say again?"

"I said 'good for whom?'" Bella drawled, being unnecessarily drawn out.

"For you, I should hope. We are going to get started on this list of things you wish to do tonight," he explained, putting down the book that had been in his hands.

"Oh," she replied quietly. Edward's brow furrowed for a moment and then relaxed.

"You thought I was asking you here tonight because I wished to bed you," he stated for her. She nodded silently. He laughed a little. "Well, as I have just explained, that is not the case. However, meeting late at night will be a convenient way to keep anyone from suspecting the truth. They _will_ think that you and I are sleeping together every night because you will be here with me and we will be alone, for obvious reasons. I can't very well explain any of your wishes to my men, they couldn't possibly understand. As long as they think that I have you in my bed, they will leave us alone."

It was Bella's brow that furrowed this time, a displeased look upon her face. Edward almost laughed.

"You find the idea of being in my bed distasteful, Bella?" he asked. His voice had dropped an octave. Sparks from the fire swirled dimly in the tent. Bella did her best to breathe and shake off the heated look he was giving her.

"I find the idea of being bedded like some form of amusement distasteful, yes. But I understand your point. It is perhaps the best way. Now explain to me how you think you are going to help me with the things I want to do."

She changed the subject as quickly as she could. She knew inviting Edward to taunt her with the idea of being brought to his bed, let alone night after night would redden her cheeks and make him more likely to tease her in a similar fashion in the future. But he only nodded.

"I believe you mentioned an interest in learning how to throw a punch, and seeing as I am a career military man, I would be the best one to teach you," he offered. Bella was a bit surprised on several levels. The first was that he wanted to help her, that he had any interest in aiding her in achieving what she wanted to before what he assumed was her accepted death. The second was that he had listened to her enough to remember what some of the things she wanted to do were.

"Okay, then show me," she invited. Edward smiled, not a taunting grin, not a smug smile, just a smile. Bella liked it.

They spent a few hours with Edward instructing her on how to hit correctly, where to land a blow, how to get the best impact, how to hold her hand and what moves to make. She wasn't skilled, but she was proficient by the end of it. She knew enough to hold her own. Not against a very strong man and not for very long, but the shock value of a woman being able to land a punch at all would be enough.

She could check it off of her list.

When he was done teaching her, when they were both tired, he told her to go to bed. She thanked him and he nodded, his lips pressed together tightly, not in anger, but in something else. Another unreadable moment passed on Edward's usually expressive face and Bella ducked out of his tent and out into the rest of the camp to find a place to sleep in the medical tent. She slept that night without dreams.

The next night as she and Edward discussed she returned to his tent and they continued their lesson on hand to hand combat. They reviewed what he had taught her the night before and to her surprise she hadn't forgotten too much of it. But instead of reviewing it and then sending her off as he had the night before, he told her as long as he was teaching her how to punch, she should learn a little more about hand to hand combat.

"It isn't about the size of the attacker, Bella. Because especially in your case, and even sometimes in mine, the man coming at you will be bigger and stronger than you are. It is about precision, knowing the weakness of your opponent and exploiting it. What do you think my weakness is?" he asked. She looked at him quizzically.

"Is that a trick question?" she inquired in return. Edward laughed. It was an easy sound. Pleasant even.

"No, it is not. Sometimes a man's weaknesses are obvious and other times they are not. Sometimes you cannot get a read on his weaknesses not matter how hard you try. In that case, you aim for the obvious and universal weaknesses of a man."

"And those are?"

"The eyes, the nose, the stomach, the kidneys and the groin. The best to go for are the eyes or the groin, because those are the most likely to incapacitate him. The nose and the stomach won't stop him in his tracks the same way, but it will hurt enough to give you time to get away. The kidneys I wouldn't even both with," he explained. Bella nodded.

"So come after me, try to land a punch, anywhere you think could give you time to get away," he said. Bella blanched. He had shown her how to land a punch, he had never asked her to hit him before. But if he asked her to, he could probably take it. She reasoned with herself that he was a warrior; a woman striking him wouldn't be the worst hit he had ever taken.

So she advanced on him slowly, and decided to try and land a blow on his face, as close to his nose as she could. She took a step toward him and struck out. He caught her arm before it came anywhere close to him and pushed her back. She stumbled but miraculously didn't fall.

"Try again," he said. There was encouragement in his tone. She did try again. And again he deflected her. And again. And again. She got tired of being deflected, being gotten the better of. The whole point was to learn how to defend herself. How could she do that if he didn't give her a fair shot at getting a blow in?

"This isn't fair," she said when he repeated the pattern once more, after she had attempted to land a hit on his stomach.

"Fights are never fair, Bella. One of the fighters is always more skilled, stronger, faster, or more clever than the other. The one you need to focus on being is clever," he instructed. She glared at him and he sent a challenging smile her way, holding his arms out to her in a gesture that clearly read, _come and get me_.

And she would have been annoyed if she didn't get an idea.

She did as she had done before, stepping toward him slowly and then taking one quick step in his direction. She swung her arm out, trying to catch him in the face and he caught her wrist as he always did. But as soon as his fingers curled around her arm she pulled back. He hadn't expected it, and stumbled the most miniscule amount in her direction. The moment of uncertain footing didn't escape Bella, and she stepped toward him again, and brought her knee up into his groin.

He fell to his knees, and then put his hands on the ground, coughing and panting hard. For a moment she felt triumph and then she felt a twinge of regret. She hadn't meant to actually hurt him, just to actually land a blow, to show him she was capable.

"Are you alright, Edward?" she asked hesitantly. He didn't answer and she was about to ask again when he rocked back onto his knees and then found his way to his feet. He shook his head and took a deep breath.

"Perhaps you didn't need to be that clever," he said. There was a pause. And then Bella laughed and Edward chuckled a bit himself. "I think that is enough for tonight."

Bella nodded and then turned to leave the tent.

"Where are you going?" he asked. She spun and looked at him, a confused expression on her face.

"I…I thought that―"

"Anyone that can find a way to bring me to my knees deserves a drink," he informed her.

"I don't drink," she said.

"Bella, I would think a woman in your position wouldn't turn down any new experience," he said, in a tone that sounded almost chastising. She sighed.

"When you put it that way you know I can't say no," she replied. He smiled mischievously. She saw the way he moved with such fluid grace and was envious of that kind of beauty of form. He went and dug through a satchel, something he had taken from their last food raid no doubt. He produced from it a bottle of wine.

"I don't have any cups," he said with a shrug.

"New experiences, right?"

Edward invited her to sit on his cot and she did, seating herself at the opposite end of it. She had to flirt with him and make this seem realistic if she was going to have him fall for her in any way that was genuine enough to save her.

Edward took a swig from the bottle and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before handing it over to Bella. She stared at the bottle and then brought it to her lips, screwing her eyes closed as she tipped her head and the bottle back, bringing the wine into her mouth.

It wasn't an awful taste, but it wasn't exactly pleasant either. She felt it rush down her throat and hit her stomach as she handed the bottle back to Edward. He held it for a long moment before taking another drink.

"So can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, little Bella, ask away."

"Why aren't there any other women in this camp? Usually there s at least some nurses or someone, but I seem to be the only one."

"It is our policy. Women are, on the whole, too distracting for the soldiers. They get preoccupied with wanting the affection of a woman and they get sloppy when they are made to work. If we are in a town and on their own time they want to take leave and find a brothel and bed a woman, they may. But not in my camp, or any others in the rebel forces."

"You find me distracting, Edward?" Bella inquired with no inflection in her voice. She couldn't decide if she was asking because she truly wanted to know or because she was trying to be coquettish.

Edward looked at her for a very long moment and then handed her the bottle of wine.

"Very."

They continued to drink and make small talk, passing the bottle back and forth while they traded questions and answers. The taste of the wine ceased to bother her after the first few swigs, and she began to recognize a taste that was distinctly not the wine. There was something sweet and mellow that she tasted each time she put her lips to the bottle and it wasn't until the bottle was already gone and Edward was sending her to bed that she realized what it had been.

She had tasted Edward on that bottle.

She fell asleep with his the sound of his voice echoing in her ears and the taste of him in her mouth.

* * *

**What did you think? Review and let me know :)**


	3. Dance

**Hello readers! It is time for the next installment! I figure waiting a couple days in between updates isn't too bad. It won't ever be longer than that. I just wanted to say that this is a short story, only a few more chapter and an epilogue, but it gets REALLY good in this chapter. So enjoy!**

The next days and nights went in a pattern, medical tent during the day, Edward's tent at night until they were too tired to stay up working on her hand to hand combat or talking. They had begun talking so much. Bella wasn't sure how it happened, but somewhere after the night they shared the bottle of wine, Edward began talking. It wasn't always about anything important, sometimes it was just a story about some skirmish he had been in or an exciting supply raid he had gone on, but Bella loved to listen.

And Edward liked to listen to her talk as well, he would ask her all these questions, about inconsequential things, about her favorite things, the dreams she had, the rest of the things on her list to do before she died. He never asked her about her life before she was captured. Whether it was because he knew it would be a hard topic for her to talk about or that she just had no interest in thinking about the life she would never be able to return to. She liked to think of herself as a woman with amnesia. She didn't know who she had been before she had arrived at the camp, and so she made the most of her time. She didn't have a guaranteed number of years in which to wallow in misery. She had to enjoy what life she had.

And so when she spent her nights learning to fight or just talking about life with Edward, she knew that a part of her was not okay with what she was doing. But she also knew that she could moan and whine about the injustice of it all or she could do what needed to be done. And what needed to be done was exactly what she was doing, spending time with Edward, seeing into him. When she knew him it would be easier to make him love her. And when she was able to make him love her, she would be able to save herself. He was a man of principle, he held on to what he believed in. He was a good man, one that clung to his convictions. If he loved Bella, he wouldn't let her go, insubordination be damned.

Three nights passed in an easy way. They practiced and talked. They spent hours asking each other questions, sometimes small talk sometimes about important things and it was nice to just talk to someone for once.

The fourth night was a close call.

Edward had been showing Bella how to put more of her body weight into her punches to give them more power when voices came, sounding very close. She prayed that they would pass. They only got closer. There wasn't time for her to get out of the tent; there wasn't any time at all. Edward's name was called from outside and then almost immediately after the flap of the tent was pulled open.

Bella didn't see who came in the tent because as soon as there was any discernable movement, Edward pulled her body into his and covered her mouth with his.

She was filled with conflicting emotions. The first was shock. She couldn't believe he was kissing her, not only because she didn't know how she felt about his lips touching hers in such an intimate way but because she hadn't even begun to think of this as a way to protect their secret. The second was that she did not like being kissed the way he was kissing her. She had always thought her first kiss would be sweet, gentle, wonderful. She didn't think she would be kissed roughly by a military man whose hands traveled simultaneously to tangle in her hair and down to her waist, then sliding lower to cup her butt, pressing her lower body roughly against his.

As much as she was confused, the logical part of her mind told her she had to play along and the emotional part told her that a man, a beautiful man, was kissing her. They were lovers after all, at least in the minds of Edward's subordinates. So because it was what she had to do, and what her body was telling her to do regardless of logic, she kissed him back, bringing her hands up to his face, letting him deepen the kiss unconsciously as she pressed herself against him.

She felt the shock in Edward's body as he pressed his lips against hers harder, flicking his tongue out over her bottom lip and then the top one, then without warning sliding his tongue into her mouth, touching it to hers briefly enough to make her shudder. His grip on her bottom tightened and he lifted her lightly so she was more in his arms and against his chest. Bella responded with her arms around his neck and he took that as an invitation, pushing his tongue back against hers, sending another current of electricity through her body.

She might have let him continue, in an effort to keep the façade going and also because she was shaking all over had his lieutenant not coughed loudly.

"Captain…are you…is this a bad time?" the man asked. Bella didn't recognize him but she still felt ridiculously embarrassed and hid her face in her hands.

"Not at all boys," Edward answered. He leaned over to Bella and said in her ear, loud enough to be heard by everyone in the tent, "Go get into bed, Bella, I'll be right there."

She turned toward the cot they were supposedly sleeping together in every night, marveling at how well Edward could pretend to be in a sexual relationship with a woman. Adding that last bit at the end when he told her to get into bed, trying to be whispering in her ear but making sure that he was heard by the others as well so they had no question what was going on. She was humiliated of course, to have been seen with a man's hands on her that way, kissing her like that, insinuating they were going to be sleeping together. But as she sat on Edward's cot and waited for him to come back, she knew that he had to do what he had just done. He had just insured their façade would continue, that the act they were putting on would not be questioned.

Except it hadn't felt like an act. After the initial shock of his lips touching hers had worn off she had felt a very real fire spread through her. And she knew, just by the way he had put his hands on her that he felt the same thing. She didn't have any experience with men or the way they touched a woman they lusted after, but there was no mistaking the actual passion that had passed between the two of them in that kiss.

Bella didn't like it. It scared her. She needed to be removed from the situation because she was trying to make him love her for reasons that were far from honorable. She couldn't get swept up in passion. So she focused on what she didn't like, the things that didn't make her shake from head to toe. She hadn't told him that she had never kissed anyone before, that as persistent as some of the men and boys in her town were, she hadn't given in to any of them. She wanted to care about someone before she let herself have that kind of contact. And Edward had taken it and thrown her ideals about genuine feelings and affection out the window. Not to say that it wasn't an enjoyable kiss once she figured out what he was doing and reminded herself that he was doing it to save them both. The roughness was something, however, that she couldn't get over. He touched her like a woman he was using, not one he loved. And again, she knew that he had no choice, he was only doing what he had to provide the correct image for his lieutenant, but that didn't make swallowing the aggression of his kisses any easier for her.

So she sat on the cot and waited for him, biding her time until he returned, thinking to herself that she didn't like kissing him all that much, that she hadn't felt it all the way to her toes, that it wasn't anything special.

When he came back into the tent and looked at her though, she knew she had been lying. He might have been the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. His eyes smoldered like embers in a fire when he looked at her and he smiled a little, just briefly. The displeased look on Bella's face gave it away. She was not in the mood to joke or talk or laugh. She waited there because she had to, for the façade, for the game.

That was what she told herself, and if she repeated it enough times, she would believe it.

"That was closer than I would have liked," Edward admitted, crossing the tent, sitting on the cot beside her. Bella nodded. If she spoke, she might yell at him for not even warning her before kissing her like that. So she kept her mouth closed. Besides, she wasn't sure she had much of a voice at that moment.

Edward looked at her for a long moment, a bewildered expression on his face. He was searching her face to find what was wrong, and Bella just looked back at him, unsure of how to explain her conflicted internal dialogue as it ran through her head. She wasn't sad or angry, she was just unsure of how to handle herself. She knew the kiss was just for show, and now she just wanted to go to sleep and forget about it altogether. It wasn't as though the idea of kissing Edward made her ill, quite the opposite in fact. That was the problem.

"I did what I had to, Bella. You understand that," Edward said, seeming like he was talking at her and not to her. She saw the Edward of a moment before slip slowly away, replaced by Captain Edward Cullen. She knew the look he got, the hardened demeanor, the way the flicker of light would fade from his eyes and they would be distant. She had been working so hard to get past that.

"I just wish you had told me, warned me somehow," she confessed.

"You know I didn't have time, Bella. I did it to protect the secret, _our_ secret, the one you were so intent on my keeping, the one that puts both of us in jeopardy. Or have you forgotten the risks I am taking to help you?"

"Do _not_ guilt trip me, Edward. I'm sorry I can't be perfectly thankful for your practically _assaulting_ me, when I had no idea what you were doing and in front of other people. Excuse me if I hadn't exactly expected my first kiss to go that way."

There was silence between them and Bella got up from the cot and walked across the tent, still angry, angry enough that she didn't even want to be near him. He assails her with kisses, to keep up the act or not, and then tells her she should be grateful. If he could speak to her like a sincere human being she would have been able to forgive him, but not that hardened exterior. She had no intention of speaking to a shell. If he couldn't be genuine, couldn't be real, she would just leave. She would find another way of escaping from his damn camp and her impending death.

"Your first…Bella, surely you can't be serious," he argued. Bella turned around and saw he was standing now as well, keeping his distance. The fire was burning low and the light was getting dimmer, but she could make out the confusion on his face as well as hear the disbelief in his voice. He honestly didn't believe her.

"What possible motive would I have for lying about that?"

He only continued to stare at her, like she hadn't spoken words he could understand.

"I…I think you have been here long enough to be believable. You should go to sleep."

Bella stared at him, incredulous, unable to speak. She had been sure that he was going to say something kind to her, maybe even apologize to her, but she got nothing but relegated back to her own space and a clear order to get out of his. She knew she was trying to make him fall in love with her, but he was making it difficult to be charming and puckish when he treated her like she wasn't a person. There had been a break in Captain Edward Cullen for a moment, but not nearly long enough.

Without speaking another word Bella left Edward's tent as he had very clearly ordered her to do and stomped off noisily to the medical tent where she found an open space and fell into a fitful sleep. She never could sleep very well when she was angry.

The morning brought bright sunlight and humiliation in more ways than one. While walking back to the supply tent after getting some fresh air, Bella tripped and landed, luckily, on her arms and not her face. But of course she was seen by all the men who were standing in the area and quiet laughter followed her into the medical tent. She bandaged the wounded, checked on those who were already healing, looked after the sick.

But humiliation followed her there as well. She had just done her rounds of the men who were sick or critically injured—thankfully there weren't many—when a man she would not have known before the night prior walked into the tent.

"How can I help you?" Bella inquired.

"The same way you help Edward," the lieutenant replied. Her face lit up in a scarlet blush. But he held up his arm and revealed to her a wound that needed some bandaging. It was already partially healed, and just needed clean dressings. So Bella instructed him to sit down while she found clean bandages. She returned a moment later and began rewrapping his wounded arm carefully, as not to hurt him.

"Did you have a nice evening?" the lieutenant asked. She paused her ministrations for a moment to look up at his face. It was the picture of innocence.

Bella didn't believe it.

"I had a perfectly lovely evening. And how was yours?" she asked in return, wrapping his wound a little tighter than she had been. She couldn't help it. He was playing some kind of game with her and she didn't like it.

"Not as good as yours was, I don't think. Ow!"

Bella tied the bandage off correctly, right over the wound, perhaps a little more tautly than was necessary. If he was going to complain about her work she was silent for a moment to let him, but he said nothing. She rose from where she was seated across from him, and he rose as well.

"I have others to attend to. If you need any more help with the bandaging, there are doctors well equipped to assist you," she said curtly. He looked at her strangely.

"Do not think for a moment that just because you are Edward's whore you have the right to be disrespectful," he growled at her.

That was all she could take. The rational part of her, the part that looked out for her well being told her to walk away, to bear the sting of the insult that didn't even apply to her in silence and just let it go was there, telling her to calm down.

But she was still bearing out the brunt of Edward's dismissal from the night before, and the fear that she would never make it out of the camp alive. Her capacity to hold any more anger or fear or sadness or emotion that weighed on her in the slightest was diminished. She had been on her last ounce of restraint. The lieutenant broke it.

So instead of walking away and simply being angry, she leaned over, her open palms on the table.

"Jealous are we?" she asked, her voice like a hiss when she spoke the words.

"Of what should I be jealous? I've bedded women more beautiful than you," he retorted.

"Oh, I didn't mean you were jealous of Edward, I meant you were jealous of me. I'm sure you would much rather take my place as the one Edward spends his nights with," she spat.

The lieutenant over turned the table between them and advanced upon her quickly. She saw the way his expression had changed, the way he had snapped at her comment. She backed away from him when he came at her. And she tried her damndest to remember what Edward had taught her about hand to hand combat and defending herself. It didn't help her when _he_ came after her, back handing her hard enough to draw blood. Her vision blacked for a moment before she was brought back to full sight. Her fight or flight instincts were kicking in now and she knew that fleeing wasn't an option—he was blocking the exit. So she did the only other things she could think to do.

She fought back.

He came at her again, but before he landed another blow she swung out at him. It was a very similar situation to what had happened with Edward; he grabbed her wrist because she wasn't fast enough to land a blow, but she was ready for that reaction. She yanked backward and he stumbled. Her knee rose to his groin as hard as she could make it go. He gasped and immediately fell to the ground, choking on air as he tried to breathe.

That was as far as her training went, until she heard Edward's voice in her ear.

_Anywhere you think would give you time to get away._

_**Get away.**_

It was clear enough. Bella ran out of the tent toward the exit. She had to find Edward before this got out of hand; well, more out of hand than it already was.

She ran into him on the way out, literally.

His body was in the way of her escape route and when she ran she hit his body forcefully, just trying to get away. At first she thought it was someone else, but the way his hands righted her could not be mistaken for anything else.

"Bella what...you're hurt," Edward said, immediately taking his hand and brushing it over her lip. She could feel it was swollen but the pain was tolerable.

"I'm fine. Although I don't know if your lieutenant will ever be able to have children."

"Do I want to know what that means?"

"He came after me, so I fought back. I kneed him in the groin," she said.

"What do you mean he came after you?"

"He insulted me. I may have responded in a way he found…less than pleasant. And he…came after me. But I handled it."

"You handled it? Getting a split lip, that is what you call handling it?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed. She couldn't tell if he was angry with her or not.

"I incapacitated and then ran. Isn't that what I should have done?"

"You shouldn't have provoked him in the first place," he said with a frown, inspecting her face again, tilting it this way and that, making sure her lip was the only thing that was hurt.

"You don't care that he―"

"Enough. I need to handle this from here. Go wait in my tent. I'll find you when I've fixed this mess," he said. The Captain was there in his eyes and in his voice. Begrudgingly she made her way to his tent.

She waited for almost an hour.

She had half a mind to leave and let him come find her if he was going to treat her like she another one of his men to order around and then leave her sitting for an hour waiting on him. But as she was about to get up and leave the flap of the tent came up and in walked the man himself. She raised her eyebrows at him.

To her surprise, he laughed.

"I _was_ angry with you, but after hearing what he called you," he said, his expression darkening for a split second, "I decided he got more than what he deserved, provocation or not. And I have made certain to tell him that he is being noted as committing subversive action in direct disobedience of his commanding officer. With that in mind, and the fact that you are more than capable of rendering one of men incapacitated, I don't think anyone is going to bother you."

"What a relief," Bella replied. Edward smiled.

"You aren't angry anymore then," she stated. He shook his head.

"But you should probably go back to the medical tent so no one thinks we are doing anything we shouldn't be doing, at least not now," he advised with a chuckle. She didn't know exactly how to react. He was so hot and cold. One moment he was Captain Edward Cullen, the next he was the Edward she had spent the past few nights with, easy going, kinder, not quite so rough around the edges. So without a fight she nodded and exited his space, leaving him behind. Right before she left he called her name once, and she spun to face him.

"Those are some dark clouds heading our way. There will be a storm tonight," he said without any obvious inflection. But Bella smiled.

He remembered.

* * *

That night Edward was right, there was a storm. Rain poured down so heavily she had to run to his tent, and even then she was soaked from head to toe. He laughed at how drenched she was when Bella got to him, but didn't say anything else. He just smiled and gestured for her to follow him. They walked back into the rain and she got thoroughly soaked as they traversed the mostly sleeping camp until they reached a row of trees, which they crossed through. The leaves above them protected them from most of the rain.

"Where are we going?" Bella asked him. He didn't speak, just smiled again and shook his head. When they had been walking under the cover of trees for a few minutes they came to the end of them, at the edge of a large opening, almost perfectly circular and caught in the middle of a wonderful storm that was raging overhead. Thunder was rumbling in response to the flashes of lightening and the rain was pouring down in buckets. He swept his hand out in front of them, water dripping off his disheveled and soaked hair onto his face.

"Dance," he said. It wasn't an order; it was as though he was almost asking her if this was good enough, if this was what she wanted. Bella bit her lip. She took a breath. She stepped into the rain and felt the air swirl around me with the energy from the storm and continued walking until she was in the middle of the clearing.

She hadn't realized that Edward had followed her out until she felt his hand brush hers. She looked at him and he spun her around in a tight circle, twirling her as she laughed. They continued to step around each other, him spinning her and finding a way to move her body exactly how he wanted it.

And then he spun her too close and she collided with his body.

And they stayed that way for a long moment. Edward slid one of his hands to her lower back and placed on of her hands on his shoulder, while the others remained clasped. They danced slowly to the sound of thunder and steady rhythm of rain. The flashes of lightning illuminated Edward's face so perfectly Bella felt herself sigh. With his guard down, not acting like The Captain, acting like a man, he was wonderful. He was charming and she was allowing herself to be charmed. This was what she wanted, she told herself, it was what she had been trying to do. She needed him to fall in love with her and it seemed like she was making progress.

It didn't matter that they spent time dancing close together, staring at the other one, eyes never breaking contact. It didn't matter that when he dipped her she laughed like she hadn't in months. It didn't matter that he picked her up off her feet and spun her around and she threw her heard back with closed eyes and let the raindrops hit her face without a care, enjoying the warm spring night even if it was being pelted with rain.

They walked back in more silence after Bella had her fill of dancing in the rain. When they got to Edward's tent he stoked the fire carefully before offering Bella dry clothes to change into out of her wet ones. He didn't say anything, just handed her some of his things and turned around. She changed quickly and told him when she was done. He turned back around and got her wet clothing from the ground, ringing out as much water as could before laying it out over the small table to dry. He made a gesture with his hand for her to turn around so he could change, which she did promptly. He tapped her on the shoulder when he was done and all the silence was killing her.

"Edward, why won't you talk to me?" she asked. He had been exceptionally quiet all night, saying but one word when he had shown her to the clearing.

He still didn't speak but he took a step in her direction. And then another. And then another until he was right next to her, only inches separating them. He leaned down a bit and put his hands on either side of her face. His hands were rough, calloused from being well used. But it wasn't the roughness she felt, it was the burn of them against her skin as he cupped her cheeks very gently, still not speaking, only staring into her eyes.

"Let's do this right," he said quietly. It was the most he had spoken in hours. And just as soon as his words had come they were gone again. They escaped past his lips right before he touched them to Bella's, in a way that was so dissimilar to the way he had kissed her before that she wasn't even sure she was kissing the same man. There was passion in the kiss, passion enough to flood her body with heat and make her hands twitch with the need to twist into his hair, but it wasn't the kind of sexual need of the kiss from before.

He moved his lips very slowly against hers, sliding a hand to the small of her back and pulling her closer, not roughly, but still with an urgency that gave her a thrill. She felt a shock run up her spine when he pressed his mouth to hers a little harder. She felt the same shock run through him when she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought them even closer.

The kiss seemed both endless and far too short. Of course she had no idea how long they stood there, his arms keeping her securely against him while they touched their mouths together over and over, like they were trying to stop but just couldn't. And in reality it was exactly how Bella felt. She wanted to stop, at least a part of her did, only because she knew if she went on much longer she would be utterly lost, but she couldn't. Her body overruled her mind. So she kept kissing him, kept sighing at the way he ran his fingers through her hair, looked her right in the eyes and then pressed his mouth against hers again and again.

Eventually they broke apart, for a few moments at first, always coming back to find the other, needing to touch and taste, and then they would break apart again, for longer this time before coming back to it. Eventually they were able to go several minutes before they had to, just had to kiss again, just once more, just one.

"I should go to bed. So should you," Edward said. Bella nodded and looked over her shoulder to the opening of the tent, where she knew she was going to have to go. Edward frowned.

"Sleep here tonight. Your clothes will be dry in the morning and this way you want get pneumonia," he offered.

This time it was Bella's turn not to speak as she simply accepted his offer with a nod. He told her to go sleep on the cot; he would sleep on the ground. She tried to tell him he didn't have to do sleep on the ground, that she was imposing on his space, but he quieted her with his lips on hers one more time, a kiss filled with reverence and affection more than anything else.

"Enough. Go to sleep, little Bella. I'll probably be gone when you wake up, but if you need me, I'll be in camp somewhere."

"Okay. And Edward?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you, for tonight, and everything else."

"You are welcome, for tonight and everything else."

Bella drifted somewhere close to sleep, being so _happy_ she didn't know how to handle it.

And then the realization that she had to use him to get free, that all of this was for her benefit jarred her awake. Because if she didn't use him to escape, she never would. She would be dead.

She didn't sleep the rest of the night.

She pretended to though when Edward woke up. He stretched a little and then came over to where Bella was sleeping, and brushed his fingers over her face before leaning down and pressing his lips to her forehead.

When he left she turned over and cried.

This was not what she had in mind when she meant to make him fall in love with her.

* * *

**My God! Kissing! So much kissing! (But not nearly enough, right?) Isn't Edward such a thoughtful man? I adore him, really I do. If you adored this, you should let me know :p**


	4. Difference

**Hello reader! You're back, how lovely, I'm so excited you are here! Now, I am going to warn you, this chapter is the reason that this story is rated M, so for those of you with virgin eyes, be careful. Hope you like it, reader.**

"Bella, this is ridiculous."

She smiled as they walked, close enough to touch if they wanted to, backs of hands brushing ever so often. She walked and did not heed his words. She knew what she was doing. The moon was full, huge in the sky, lighting up everything, and she had weaseled it out of Edward that there was a pond not far from the camp. It was in the opposite direction as the clearing he had shown her four days prior, but it was about the same distance.

Those four days had been something akin to torture. Edward hadn't touched Bella in any way that even closely resembled the way he had the night of the storm. It seemed his affection had faded with the thunder. Only Bella had felt him kiss her forehead the next morning, she had felt the gentle touch as he brushed her hair off her cheek and pressed his lips to her skin. She knew she hadn't dreamt it. She hadn't slept. But still, it was as though it hadn't happened.

Which meant she was going to have to work harder.

But all the while, thinking about making him fall in love with her, she was thinking about that kiss, the one he had given her, doing things the 'right way'. She hadn't ever felt anything like that. Every nerve in her body had been brought to attention, every thought had been banished from her mind outside the very real desire to never, never stop kissing him. In another life, she would have fallen in love with him right then and there, the way his hands gently cupped her face, how he couldn't let her go, how his actions, not his words, told her he needed her. But all of that had vanished, the need, the want, the passion, it was all gone.

Its absence was not only disappointing, but dangerous. So she was trying her last ditch effort, the last thing she could think to do. If this didn't provoke him, make him want her and reignite that passion, she didn't know what would do it. And so they walked in the woods, weaving through trees, Bella the silent one this time.

When they finally came upon the pond, Bella marveled that it could not have been more perfect. The water reflected the moon, so they were graced with two moons, one in the sky, one at their feet. It was light enough to see by, but not too bright, and the surface of the water was smooth and glassy. It was honest perfection. She said so. Edward didn't respond.

Until she started taking off her clothes.

It took more courage than Bella had needed to employ in a long time to start shedding her clothing in front of him, but she just took a deep breath, told herself it was the only way and pretended she was alone.

"Bella, what in God's name are you doing?" Edward asked, his voice an octave higher than it normally was. He had his hand in front of his eyes, but his fingers were splayed. She didn't know if he was watching or not, but she kept removing articles of clothing.

"Did I not mention that this goal of mine was swimming under a full mood naked?" she asked quietly.

"You failed to mention the last part," he informed her, his voice tight. He was trying to sound annoyed. But Bella didn't care as she stepped into the water. It was warmed from the constant sun and so not too chilly. She immersed herself completely under the water, and then broke the surface, finding Edward again. The water rippled around her, making waves in the reflected moon. Edward still had his hand over his eyes.

"You can look now, Edward. You won't be able to see anything."

After a moment of pause Edward lowered his hand. He stared at her, hair wet and flowing in the water around her, droplets dripping down her bare arms and face and the bits of her shoulder he could see. She smiled up at him. He frowned.

"I know what you are doing, Bella," he informed her.

"Do you? Well, please, tell me what you think I am doing," she answered, moving her hands through the water before her, creating more little ripples.

"I am not getting in that water with you," he stated. Bella laughed.

"Fair enough."

That said she ducked back under water and started swimming around. Ducking and diving and splashing and enjoying herself. She would have enjoyed it more if she was there with Rosalie, so they could share the moment with her best friend. Unfortunately, she was only able to make the best of the moment she was given. She could have been killed earlier. She had to be thankful that she wasn't and enjoy the time she had, at least the time she had that she wasn't attempting to make Edward fall in love with her.

After a while of her swimming Edward sighed and coughed loudly. He drew her attention. She peaked an eyebrow at him.

"Are you about done here?" he asked. Now his voice was annoyed. Bella bit her lip in a moment of hesitant defeat. She nodded and then swam to the edge of the pond. He must have assumed she would give him some sort of warning before getting out of the water, because when she stepped out, he stood and stared at her for a moment before turning on his heel.

"Jesus, Bella, you couldn't warn me?" he asked. The annoyance was gone, replaced with that same tightness she had heard earlier. She smiled.

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking," she equivocated while she rang out her hair and tried to shake off some of the water on her skin.

"Thank you for indulging me," she continued as she began to dress herself again.

"Could you please tell me the next time one of the things you want to do includes getting naked?" he asked.

Bella took a long breath. This was the only thing she could think to say, to make him understand what she was trying to get him to see this entire night, what she had been trying to get him to see for the past few days, since he had begun to ignore her.

"Well, actually, now that you mention it, there is one more thing that I want to do before I die that involves some nudity," she said. Her voice had started off as a joke but turned into a serious whisper by the end of her sentence.

"And what is that?" he asked. He sounded skeptical.

"Well, I should think it would be obvious that if I had never been kissed that…there are other things I have never experienced as well," she stated, her voice a fraction more resolute than it had been the moment before.

Edward was lucky she put her clothes on fast, because he turned and looked at her, with an incredulous look in his eyes. He honestly couldn't believe her.

"Bella, I can't…I can't be the man to…to take that from you," he said. His words were broken, his voice obviously colored in disbelief. And even though she had known he wouldn't simply agree to sleep with her, even though she knew it was going to be something she would have to convince him she really wanted, she felt offended that he didn't want her. If she were truly honest with herself, she would admit that she wanted him. She was using this request as a way to get closer to him, but she also had a genuine desire to not die without knowing what it was like to make love to a man. Rosalie told Bella about she and Emmett, and how wonderful it was to be with a man you loved, to be so close. She would be lying if she said she didn't want that experience, especially with a man who with a single kiss could make her melt. She could pretend she loved him for that little while if she had to.

"You aren't taking anything. You're giving me something, an experience I can't have any other way. I'm going to die, Edward. Your entire camp already things you're bedding me every night, what difference would it make to you if one night we actually did what everyone thinks we are doing?"

"It does make a difference!"

He had never raised his voice to her like that before. Bella didn't mean to, but she flinched. He wouldn't kiss her, wouldn't sleep with her, didn't love her and she saw her plan, the shaky thing that it was in the first place, falling apart. There was nothing she could do. Death was coming for her, and where she had once had a tenuous thread of hope on her horizon, she could see now that it wasn't real. He wasn't going to fall in love with her. He wouldn't save her.

She was dead.

"Take me back to camp now," she said quietly. Edward stared at her for a long moment, as though he was surprised. He probably thought she was going to put up more of a fight, but the past few days had driven her crazy, frustrated her beyond belief and she had been resting all her hopes on the conversation she was going to have with him tonight. She was going to convince him to make love to her, to be with her, and tell him that she cared about him, that she thought she was falling for him. She had hoped that he would return the sentiment. That she would see love in his eyes. That he wouldn't let her die.

But she could see now that she was idiot to ever think something like that. The man she had seen in him, the kind man, compassionate, loving, beautiful was swallowed up by The Captain. He was gone and it seemed like he wasn't coming back. His appearances were always very short lived anyway, and even though she missed that man when he was gone, she had tried everything she could think of to bring him back. She had joked with him the past few nights, been sweet, been open, honest, told him her secrets. And he had listened, she knew he had, but when she looked into those eyes, emeralds disguised as eyes really, she hadn't seen the man she wanted in them. She hadn't known what else to do other than this, other than to try and make him want to be closer to her, physically at least for now. But the plan had backfired. He had pulled away from her more than ever.

Edward nodded silently and began walking. Bella followed his steps, staring at her feet, not bothering to meet his eyes. When they crossed the boundary into camp Bella left Edward's side without a word and went to the medical tent to sleep. She didn't say goodnight, and neither did he, but she could still feel him watch her as she walked away. She didn't glance behind her to check, but she was certain that he had stopped walking when she left his side and just watched her go. But it didn't matter anymore.

She slept that night fitfully, and woke feeling more tired than she had been before falling asleep. She didn't see Edward all day, made a point to busy herself with work in the medical tent and she didn't see him that night either. She couldn't bear it. The sting of rejection and the realization of her inevitable death were now her constant companions.

But after two days and two nights of avoiding him, when she was about to go to sleep on the third night, he came and found her.

"Bella, I need to see you in my tent," he told her. She was surrounded by other soldiers, medics, the wounded and some others that were visiting friends. There was a moment of pause.

"I was just about to go to sleep," she told him. He stared at her. There were no words spoken but Bella got the idea that when he had said it, more like a question, an invitation, he meant it more as a command. So she sighed. Then she nodded. She would come.

The men in the tent gave her looks and whistled, giving her hell, as though they had some idea of what was going to happen. They all assumed that she would be in his bed. They were wrong, even though it would have been easier if they weren't.

So she got herself together, dragging her feet through camp. It took her ten minutes to get to him, where other nights she had practically sprinted through camp and made it there in three. She took a long deep breath when she made it to his tent, pulling back the flap and stepping inside. He was sitting on the edge of his cot, elbows on his knees, a book in his hands. He looked up at her and where there was once a smile waiting for her, he was blank. That emptiness was a slap in the face.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked. Her voice was even and as empty as his face.

"Do not ever disrespect me in front of my men again," he said. His voice was a low rumble, like thunder. Bella bit her lip to keep from shouting something obscene at him. She felt like they were back where they had started when they first met, at odds. She felt the old resentment creeping under her skin when she looked at him.

"Do you understand me?"

She glared.

"I asked you a question."

"And I am not one of your soldiers. I don't take orders from you. If you want me to be responsive, show me the same respect you demand," Bella replied.

"If you want respect, don't try and whore yourself out," he retorted.

There hadn't been many times in her life where Bella felt a surge of rage rise in her chest. When Edward's lieutenant had insulted her in the medical tent was one of the few times, and that moment, where Edward had done the same was another.

"Do not ever say something like that to me again. You have no idea what this is like, to be trapped here, knowing you are going to die. You could not possibly even begin to comprehend what this feels like. So I asked you for something I thought you would be willing to provide because I thought a man who kissed me the way you did might be the _slightest_ bit interested in me. I won't apologize for it."

Edward rose and took a step in her direction.

"I should not have kissed you the way I did in front of my men, at least not for your first kiss. I didn't know that, and if I had, I would have gone about that situation differently. I owed you something else to remember as a first kiss that wasn't something that made you uncomfortable. I owed you, and I paid my debt to you. That was all."

Bella felt his words sweep across her. As her mind made sense of them, her anger swelled. She closed the space between them.

"Don't you _dare_ pretend that is all that was! You can lie to your soldiers; I don't care what you tell them. If you owe me anything, Edward, it's the truth."

"The truth isn't something you want to hear, Bella," he said more softly.

"But I deserve it. You know that I do. You want to pay a debt? You tell me the truth."

Edward looked at her for a long moment. He just stared into her eyes. Awful as it was, Bella felt some of her anger melt. She wanted to hold on to it, but it was slipping away from her as his eyes softened. The Edward she liked was showing, the compassion in his eyes. She mentally cursed him for the way he was looking at her, for making it hard to stay angry.

"I know what you were trying to do. And you think that I can give you life, that I can save you, but I can't. Giving you time was our arrangement, and no matter how much I might hate what I have to do, no matter how much it is going to hurt me—and I assure you that it is going to hurt me—I can't change this. It isn't fair. And you have to understand that if I could do something, if I could find a way to let you get away now, to escape this fate, I would, in a second.

"I know you thought that you could make me care for you, and if I did you would be saved. And you thought the way to do that was to sleep with me. But I know the truth; I know that I can't miraculously change your fate. So sleeping with you anyway…I could never take advantage of you like that. You deserve better than a man who is bringing you to his bed for reasons different from those that make you want to be there. You wanted to sleep with me because you thought it would save you. But it won't. And I am sorry. I wish every single day that I could go back in time and just let you go, that I wouldn't be standing here with a woman that I…care for, and know what is going to happen to her. Because I do care about you. It is possibly the stupidest, worst advised thing I have ever done, caring about you as deeply as I do. But I can't help it. It kills me, Bella, to watch you go every night and wonder how many more we have together. I know you were angry with me, and you have every right. But please, promise me you will still come see me at night. I'm begging you, Bella. I am throwing my pride at your feet. I don't have anything else to give you, so accept my apology for being phenomenally rude and moronic, and let me make it up to you."

She wanted to be angry. She wanted to be furious. He wasn't going to even try to save her? He cared for her, he _admitted_ it, and yet he was just going to sit back and let her die? What kind of affection was that, the kind that made you care, but not enough to try to save the life of the one you cared for?

But even while those questions were racing through her mind, other things he had said were careening through her thoughts.

"Why have you been ignoring me then?" she asked, the skepticism of his admission clear in her voice.

"Bella, I am no good at emotional things. Everything I just told you is the most honest I have ever been with someone about myself. I know you felt it when I kissed you, the longing, the affection and…I was scared. I didn't know what to do. So I pretended there wasn't anything there."

Bella said nothing. She didn't know what she possibly could say to him right then. He wanted her. He cared about her. But there was nothing they could do to be together. They were star-crossed lovers if there ever were any. Somehow 'Never had there been a tale of more woe than that of Bella and her Edward' didn't have the same ring as Juliet and Romeo, but Bella felt like Romeo and Juliet had it easy. At least Juliet didn't know she was going to die throughout the entire story, and Romeo wasn't the one who had to kill her.

"I…I don't really know what to say," Bella admitted.

Edward only nodded and gave her a smile, one filled with the defeat she had been feeling.

"Don't worry about it. You can go sleep now if you like. I won't keep you any longer."

Bella felt herself torn. But she knew she couldn't possibly have any sort of meaningful conversation with him until she had processed everything he had told her. There was too much there for her think of what she could say. So she just nodded to him, and turned to leave. When she lifted the flap to the tent he stopped her, calling her name. She turned and looked at him. He was sitting down again, and the Edward she liked was still there in his eyes.

"It is a little ironic, I think, that all this time you have been pretending to care for me and I have been pretending not to."

Bella stared, bit her lip, and left.

* * *

Bella slept that night after lying and thinking for hours. She went through everything word he had said, she remembered the tone of his voice, the way he had looked at her as he spoke. He hadn't been lying. When she had asked for the truth, he had given it to her. And while he was right, it wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear, it was nice to hear something honest. And she knew that in the wake of his honesty, he deserved to hear something honest in return.

He went on a food run the next day so she didn't get a chance to talk to him. He returned uninjured, for which she was thankful, and as soon as night fell, as soon as she could possibly make it to him to talk to him privately she flew to his tent, weaving between the other tents and the men walking between them. She nearly knocked into them all, trying to just get where she wanted to be. She had been angry, so very angry with him. And she was right to be angry. She wasn't going to take it back. But she wasn't going to waste time being furious if he had apologized. She had thought the same when she was swimming—it wasn't ideal it wasn't exactly what she wanted. But she wasn't in the position to be negotiating circumstances.

She propelled herself into his tent, finding him on his knees, feeding the fire before him. He looked up at her, and she took a breath and spoke her piece.

"I wasn't pretending. I mean, maybe a little at first, being so puckish, but not now."

"Pretending?" he asked, his brows knit together.

"Last night, you said…it was ironic that we were both pretending the opposite of the truth. I wasn't pretending, Edward. I'm not. You said it last night; I don't know how much time I might have, probably not much. I don't want to waste any more of it. I don't _want_ to pretend."

"Bella, you don't have to say this."

"I'm not saying it because I feel like I have to. I'm saying it because I want to. I'm scared. I admit it. I just want to make the most of what I have right now. So I need to know if I have you."

Silence. There was so much silence. It made her ears ring. He didn't say yes, but he didn't say no. He didn't say anything. He got up from his knees and brushed off his pants, the rubbed his hands together, ridding them off the dirt and wood splinters. And then he crossed the space between them and kissed her. For a moment Bella was still, didn't know what to do, and then she reacted, getting on her tip toes to press her mouth against Edward's, he being so much taller than she was. The next moment he wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her entire body flush against his, his mouth still covering hers.

He kissed her lips once more, then moved his mouth down her jaw, slowly dragging his lips over skin, setting her flesh on fire everywhere they touched. He made his way to her ear and he stopped just for a moment.

"You always have me. You have had me since the moment you saw me, and you will have me every moment of every day between now and the end of my life," he said. Bella withdrew for a moment.

"Don't lie to me," she warned him. He pressed his lips to hers again, held her tightly.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"What if I die tomorrow?" she asked.

"You won't," he assured her, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"But what if I do?"

"What are you asking for, Bella?"

She paused.

"The same thing I was asking for a few nights ago."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?" she asked. "It isn't as though we are still operating under the same pretense. My reasons are different."

"And what are your reasons?" he asked back, pulling away slightly, his hands still on her waist.

"What if I _do_ die tomorrow? What if you have no choice? What if I die tomorrow and the only thing I have asked you for that you denied me was this?"

"Bella, I don't think this is a good idea. Sleeping with someone just to sleep with someone won't make things any easier," he cautioned.

"If I wanted to just sleep with _someone_ I would go ask one of the men in your camp to divest me of my purity. It isn't about just sleeping with someone; it is about you and me. But if you don't want me, I'll understand."

She was lying. She would be utterly destroyed. She had been honest with him—she wasn't pretending anymore. She had realized in all her thinking the night before that she wanted him. She wanted to hear him talk and laugh and spend time with him. She wanted him to kiss her over and over and never stop. She wanted to talk all night. She wanted to go swimming again, go dancing again. She wanted to make love. All with him. She didn't know if she had time enough for some of those things, but she knew she at least had time enough for one of them.

"I am not trying to say I don't want you," he told her. She felt a rush of relief right before she hear the but coming. "But I would feel like I was taking advantage of you. This isn't the kind of situation that brings about the rational side of people. I told you, you distract me. And I didn't just mean in my work, I mean when I should be thinking of the right thing, I am instead thinking of you. I would like nothing more than to make love to you―"

"Then please, just do it," she pled.

"Bella―"

"Edward, I don't have the kind of time that lets me convince you for weeks that it would really be okay if we slept together. For all either of us knows, all I have is tonight. Don't make me beg you."

There was indecision on his face, marring his features. And after a long moment he sighed.

"I can never say no to you," he confessed. Before she had a chance to say a word in victory he kissed her again, making speech completely impossible. He kissed her breathless and then drew her back, step by step, closer to his cot. She felt him stop and he drew away from her, breaking their kiss and looked behind him. She looked at him with an amused skepticism.

"We will not both fit," he said with annoyance. Then he smirked and removed the blanket form the end of the cot and spread it on the ground. "Sure you won't mind making love on the ground?"

"With you?" she asked, "absolutely not."

She thought he was going to go down to sit or lie on the blanket, but he stayed standing, pressing his lips to hers, and then down her jaw, her chin, her cheek, down her neck, kissing and flicking his tongue out occasionally, making her squirm. He made his way back up to her mouth again and kissed her once, a kiss that made her knees almost unhinge with the passion there was behind it. He then pulled back and pulled off his shirt.

"Hasty?" she asked.

"Hot," he answered. She wasn't about to complain. Being a career military man had done wonderful things for his body. Tight toned stomach, defined chest muscles, arms that looked as strong as they felt when he wrapped them around her. She shivered a little. He drew her back to his body and she felt his skin, burning hot like he had been in the sun or near the fire for too long. He kissed her again, sliding his hands over her still clothed body while she tentatively put her hands on his shoulders and then slowly but surely down his chest, letting her fingertips glide of his stomach and back up. He let out a little growl as he kissed her neck and bit gently.

She cried out.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked immediately. Bella shook her head.

"Definitely not."

He grinned and pulled her back, continuing his ministrations at her neck, now biting her intermittently, laughing every time she quaked and made a noise of a distinctly pleasurable nature. She grew bolder, touching him more, putting her hands around his neck, sliding up and down his back. She lightly grazed her nails over his back and he shook and held her closer.

He lasted another minute with her repeating her circuit, fingers over his chest and stomach, lighter touches followed by slightly rougher ones, followed by her nails over his back or stomach before he had to pull away, panting, breath ragged. Bella felt her own breathing had sped up, become sharp and choppy. He was doing things to her neck she wasn't sure she could explain in words.

"You are entirely too clothed," he told her, whispering in her ear. A thrill travelled through her, down to her toes and then back up again. Bella took to wearing a skirt and a shirt, easier to move in than a dress when she was helping her father at the mill, and so she had been dressed when she was captured. Since she had no change of clothes it was a shirt Edward un-tucked from her skirt and lifted slowly over her head, pulling her arms out of the sleeves.

She was naked underneath her shirt. She had thought she would be embarrassed to be so exposed. But there was something in the reverence Edward's eyes had in them as he looked her over, the way when his hands went to her skin he touched her oh so gently, as though she was something precious he was afraid to break. His bare chest pressed against hers was one of the most breath taking experiences she had ever had and he dropped his lips to hers again, kissing her lightly at first. She twisted her fingers in his hair as the kiss deepened and his hands slid to the small of her back, rubbing slow circles on her bare flesh before one of them slowly moved between them. His finger tips moves in more slow circles on her hip, then up her stomach, then just below the swell of her breasts.

"Tell me to stop if you want me to stop, Bella. I won't be angry if you change your mind," he told her. She nodded. There was no way she was going to tell him to stop. Not now. She didn't think she could make her mouth form words, let alone a coherent enough thought process to tell him to stop doing something, especially the things he had been doing, that made her feel like she was floating and flying and drunk all at once.

He returned his mouth to hers and then let his hand wader further up. He moved his hand over her breast and pressed into her a little. She moaned into his mouth. He caressed her very slowly, making sure he wasn't doing anything she was uncomfortable with. When her moans and emphatic physical responses of pressing into him convinced him, he brought his other hand up, and paid equal attention to her other breast. She let out a whimper. His mouth left hers and travelled down her neck, licking and kissing and biting periodically, sliding over her skin, until his lips had connected with the skin of her chest. She didn't have time to think before he had taken one of her nipples in his mouth, running his tongue over it, sucking gently, biting a little.

She gasped. A string of nonsense words left her mouth as she bit her lip to keep from making too much noise. His mouth moved and did the same to her other nipple as she strained every muscle in her body to keep quiet. Her fingers threaded into his hair and tugged lightly, the only thing she could do in that moment.

He dropped to his knees and kissed her stomach, sliding his hands up and down her sides. She shivered. He looked up at her from his place on his knees and motioned for her to join him on her knees. She dropped to them immediately. His mouth found hers again. Eons passed where his mouth was connected to hers, mapping out her body under his hands. She was shaking all over. And she could feel him groan rather than hear it every time she mimicked him and licked or kissed or bit his neck or brushed her fingertips or nails over somewhere sensitive.

"Bella," he moaned into her neck, while she let her lips find the spot behind his ear she had accidentally discovered he loved. "Are you sure about this?"

"Positive, Edward," she answered. She smiled against his skin and breathed out slowly, gently pushing her back. She laid back and looked up at him as he came next to her, kissing her, running his hands over her exposed skin. They kissed. They touched. They shifted so Edward was covering her body with his, and Bella felt tingles all over her skin.

Minutes passed and as they went, his pants disappeared, as did her skirt. When they were completely naked, they took a good few minutes just looking at each other. Edward didn't say anything at all, but he didn't need to. There was something in his eyes, something told her that even if he had tried to speak there was no way he would be able to get out what he needed to say to her. And for her part she could hardly believe a man could be so unbreakable, so like Edward was, and yet be so beautiful. It almost wasn't fair. So she accepted his reverent silence as his mouth found hers again.

His fingers traveled down her chest, down her stomach, over her hips, and lightly down between her thighs, brushing over her center. Bella gasped and heard Edward chuckle as he touched her again, more pressure this time. She groaned, biting her lip, shaking all over. His fingers took their time. Every move he made was earth shattering, like a force of nature ripping through her body with every touch, no matter how brief and gentle.

"Are you ready, Bella?" he whispered. She could barely understand his words over the pounding of her blood in her ears; the way her heart was beating out of her chest, energy was humming through her entire body. She nodded, not trusting her mouth to actually work correctly and form words.

There was a long pause then. Edward moved over her completely and braced himself on his elbows. He looked in Bella's eyes for a long moment. He lowered his mouth to hers. When his lips touched upon hers he slid himself inside her.

Her whole body tensed. Every muscle contracted. Her breathing stopped. She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw.

He said her name again. She told him to wait, to just wait a moment. She breathed in slowly. Moments passed and the pain lessened. It became bearable. She opened her eyes and smiled. And then she nodded to him.

It stopped being painful and started being simply uncomfortable as Edward found a slow rhythm. He continued to cover her upper body with kisses as he moved in and out of her with a patient slowness. As most of the pain abated, she was able to relax her body. She gasped every time he entered her, wrapping her arms around him, one hand in his hair, the other grasping his back. She wanted him closer, _needed_ him closer. She raised her hips to meet him every time he pushed into her. It wasn't as though by doing so she was able to make the uncomfortable feeling or the dull ache subside, but she finding that it was more important to be close to him, to feel his whole body against hers, to enjoy the feel of his lips on her shoulders as they made love than it was to give in to the pain and detach herself.

He began to pick up his pace after a few minutes. Bella pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him as his love making became more urgent. He needed her too, she realized. Just as much as she felt she needed him, he was as desperate for her. She had a fleeting thought of impending death, of being terrified of her fate, but it was lost in his kisses, in his closeness.

Edward moved his face to the crook of her neck, kissing and licking and moaning quietly. She heard him gasp, felt his entire body shake as he climaxed. After a moment he moved to his side beside her, his arm still around her waist, his forehead resting on her shoulder, breath coming out in ragged gasps.

Bella didn't speak. She couldn't speak. She could only breathe and stare back at Edward when he raised his eyes to hers. She could kiss him back when he brought her mouth to his and pressed his lips against hers. She could smile when he smiled at her.

"You are the most amazing woman I have ever known," he told her. She bit her lip and smiled. He pulled her tighter.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "Did I hurt you?"

"Yes. And yes. But not too much. I would gladly go through that pain to make love to you," she answered. Her voice sounded strained, like she was exhausted. And she could feel her body _was_ exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to fall asleep right where she was. But Edward was peppering her skin with kisses and telling her in between them that they needed to get up and get dressed.

"Must we?" she asked quietly. Bella felt him nod against her stomach, the last place his lips had come to rest.

"I just want to stay here with you," she confessed.

Edward brought himself back up on his elbows and stared into her eyes for a long time. He didn't say anything out loud. For a moment his silence worried her, but then Bella saw what was in his eyes and heard the words as though he had spoken them out loud.

_I wouldn't have it any other way._

She let him continue kissing her body all over, not in a way meant to facilitate anything sexual, in a way that was meant to fill her with ease and euphoria. She wasn't surprised to find it was working.

"How do you feel, Bella?" he asked after a while, mumbling into the skin of her neck. His mouth had found his way back to hers after much wandering, and had been making her stomach flip in the most wonderful ways just by the way he would press his lips against hers, gently at first, a little harder after a moment, never stepping over the line.

"I could die happy," she replied, before she was able to really think about what she had said. He looked up at her. Their eyes met.

"Let's not talk about death tonight," he suggested. It seemed casual. But she could hear the very real pain in his voice.

"Good idea," she hastily agreed. They kissed again, once, twice, thrice.

They fell asleep together, dressed, on the ground, folded into each other.

Bella dreamt of her death.

**Oh my goodness! This chapter was INTENSE. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, let me know! I love hearing your feedback :)**


	5. Run

**Look! There, in the distance! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's chapter five! This is _technically_ the last chapter, however I am writing an epilogue, so that shall be posted in a few days. So it isn't QUITE over yet. Happy reading my dears.**

Bella was dreaming. It was a nice dream, of wheat fields and other pleasant things that were not harmful or threatening. There was sunshine and warmth and Edward. Edward was there, smiling at her. His hair was ruffling in the wind, getting even more disheveled as he walked toward her. He looked different, calm, relaxed. He moved toward her, motions fluid, like air or water.

"Wake up, love," he said. His voice was quiet, distant, beautiful. Bella sighed.

"Bella, wake up." The voice got closer, louder, more real. The dream quality, the beauty of it did not fade, but became concrete. She felt herself stir.

"Don't make me," she whispered. She felt herself wake. Her eyes flickered open. She was greeted with the most beautiful sight in the entire world. Edward was lying beside her, stroking the side of her face.

"Good morning," he whispered, leaning down and touching his lips to hers before she could answer. They kissed for a moment. Their lips parted. Edward smiled. Bella smirked.

"Now now Bella, we don't have that kind of time this morning," he chastised. But Bella wriggled and he shook a little. She looked into his eyes and smiled sweetly.

"Please?" she asked, being as charming as she was able.

"Bella, love, you know I always find myself wanting to make love to you. But we went to bed three times yesterday, and I need to be able to function today. Unfortunately if we engage in love making I will be indisposed for a whole hour, and I actually have work to do."

"Work? Why do that when you can languish in bed with me all day long?" she asked with a grin, pulling his face down to hers for a drawn out kiss. She felt him smile at the end when their lips finally separated.

"We aren't _in_ a bed," he reminded her. She laughed.

"Excellent point; still," Bella said. They had made love at least twice every day since the first time together. And the first few times had been uncomfortable for Bella, but each time she was able to ignore the uncomfortable feeling more and focus on the pleasure. And God, was there pleasure to be found in making love to Edward. He let down all his walls, let go of everything and just let himself be with her and she with him. She felt herself falling more and more inexorably in love with him every minute they were together.

So she looked at him with what she was love in her eyes and she bit her bottom lip and he stared at her. And then he sighed.

"You know I cannot possibly deny you," he said in acquiescence. She laughed.

"As it rightly should be," she answered. His body moved over hers, still fully clothed and their lips met and his hands ran through her long hair. His lips moved down to her neck, licking, kissing, sucking, biting gently. Bella moaned quietly.

"Captain?" a voice asked from outside the tent. Edward immediately paused. Bella struggled under his body in frustration. This was a very bad time to be interrupted.

"Yes?" Edward asked, pressing his lips back down to Bella's skin. She shivered and tried to stay quiet.

"Sir, it's urgent," the voice replied. Edward sighed deeply. He kissed her mouth once and then got up off the ground on the blankets they had spread and told her with his eyes he would be back to finish what he had started. He exited the tent and Bella sighed, covering her eyes with her hand, feeling her heart slow from its racing pace and her breathing return to normal after being so rushed and intense. She smiled at the thought of his hands and mouth over her skin, making love, feeling _complete_.

She lay on the ground on the blankets that smelled like her and Edward, where their skin had touched so many times. It was a comfort to smell him there, to have the reminder that he was real, that she loved him and that was real, and that even if he didn't say it, he had feelings for her and they were real too. Even if it couldn't last, she knew it was there.

The thought of it having to end, in her eventual and inevitable death was something that was just too hard for her to bear, so she didn't think about it. She sat up and took a deep breath; she hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her arms. She waited for Edward to come back. The longer he was away, the more worried she got. Were his commanding officers come by, were they going to see she was here, was she going to have to die today, was he going to be tried for treason?

Her mind raced with terrifying possibilities. Really all she wanted was for him to come back into the tent, to come to her side, and make love to her all morning. She wanted to feel his body intertwine with hers, be a part of her, and her be a part of him. It was the only tangible thing she had. It was the only reality she could cling to. And so she clung, she spent countless hours making love, mapping out every inch of his body with her lips and hands and let him do the same, just to feel it and know it was real.

If she had to die, falling in love and knowing that kind of bliss were not awful things to precede her demise.

When he entered the tent once more she grinned at him, expecting him to make good on the promise he had made in the expression he had left her with. But he was so solemn that his expression literally took Bella aback. Where had playful, cheery, beautiful, loving Edward gone to? Why had unsettled Edward replaced him?

"Edward?" she couldn't speak any other words. And even his name was a struggle, like she was suffocating as he came to his knees beside her. His face was at the same time troubled, anxious, absent and terrified. It frightened Bella, she didn't know how to make things better, didn't even know what the trouble was. He wouldn't look at her, or couldn't look at her, and his countenance and silence were only driving the fear deeper into her veins with every moment that passed. She put her hands on either side of his face and moved it so he was forced to look at her. His eyes met hers for the first time and there was a profound sadness in them, more than she had ever thought she would see on his gorgeous face. She had known he would be sad when she was dead, but a part of her had always thought that the day he needed to kill her would never come and she would never have to see that kind of sadness nor feel the fear that was welling in her heart.

"Edward," she said again, a little louder. Her voice that time seemed to shock him into reality. He broke from his daze and he no longer looked absent, only terrified.

"Bella…" he whispered, he leaned forward and put his forehead against hers and bit his lip.

"Tell me, please, Edward," she murmured back, keeping her voice as low as his had been. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and then opened them slowly, breathing out in a controlled sigh.

"We are under attack, or we will be in about an hour. There are forces marching on us. We do not have time to pack up the camp and move, we will have to stay and fight. You…I can't protect you here, Bella. I have to look out for my men. And even if you stayed in this tent, if they found you with us they would kill you or worse. You will not be safe here, no matter what I try to do."

"What are you telling me, Edward? Am I going to die?" she asked, trying to keep her voice under careful control. There were tears waiting for her on the other side of this exchange. If he said yes, they were going to spill. But for the moment she was trying to keep from being hysterical.

And when he shook his head she felt a wave of sweet relief. Until she realized he was still desolate, still afraid, still wrong.

"Then what?"

"You have to go," he told her. She blinked in surprise, pulled away slightly, so she could sit up straight and look him in his face. It looked awful, contorted in pain and fear like it was, beautiful as it might still have been. He had the face of an angel—he should never be so sad.

"What?"

"Isn't that what you have been asking for all along? Your freedom? I'm giving it to you. The forces are coming up through the south, if you head northwest and stay on the forest trail you will find your way back to your father's house and you can go on living your life as though none of this ever happened. This entire ordeal can be one deep dark secret. You don't have to die, at least not now. You can live a long happy life. You can live and forget about this."

"I don't want to forget," she whispered back. The expression on Edward's face changed so rapidly and dramatically it was amazing to see.

"You have to," he said with vehemence, almost with anger. "I will tell my higher ups that you escaped in the chaos of the battle, I have no idea where you are and you will be safe, Bella, safe. If you stay here, you _will_ die. There is no question in that."

"I don't want to die, but I don't want to go…I don't want to leave you."

He barked out a laugh. It was filled with sick sadness.

"Don't sentence yourself to death because you want to stay here with me," he answered.

"Well maybe when this is all over we can―"

He held up a hand and she stopped talking.

"I don't even know if I will live through today, let alone where I might be in a week or a month. I could be travelling with my troops, or dead, or being tried as criminal of war. I could be a million miles from here, or I could be so close I could almost touch you but wouldn't be allowed to because you are an innocent young woman, and the daughter of a good man who supplies troops that are about to try to kill me and my men. You want star crossed lovers, you want story books romance, we are it, right here."

Bella had been living on one shred of faith, one inch of hope that for some reason had not escaped her body in the weeks that had come before that moment. She had managed to keep herself going with the one iota of belief in good karma and justice and her sense of right that had managed to survive. And yet what Edward was telling her didn't compute. She couldn't understand it. he was almost coming out and telling her he loved her, as close as he had ever gotten and as close as he ever might get, but he was telling her that no matter what happened, he could never be with her, never again outside these last moments they were sharing. When she thought of them as their last moments she felt urge to cry well up in her throat and in her eyes.

"This is all I have left to give you, a few more minutes before you have to go and get out of here so you can be safe," he told her. "I don't want this either, I don't want to let you go, to never see you again. I don't want to lose you, Bella. But I won't endanger you. I have the chance to save you, something I never thought I was going to be able to do. And now here I am, given the opportunity to save your life. I would be a selfish man not to do such a thing. To damn you when I could save you would be a sin worthy of hellfire."

Bella felt her heart tearing in half. She had stumbled upon this man, the one she thought to have sentenced her to death, and now he was setting her free and she didn't want to go. She wanted to stay in his arms. She had fallen in love with him all the while she had been trying to make him fall in love with her. She hadn't even thought to guard her own heart against his charms as she was working so hard to ensnare his heart with her own charm. He had given her things she never thought she was going to have. She had _lived_ in way she never would have and he had let her. She could have been dead weeks before, but he had gone against his better judgment, gone against what he was supposed to do ad he had let her live. He had given her time, and by taking that chance he had accidentally given her the chance at a real life again. She could go home, tell her father something about where she had been, she could move on.

"I am never going to see you again, am I?" she asked in a whisper.

"No, you won't," he answered. She felt a twinge of pain run her through. But she nodded slowly.

"Hold me, Edward, just for another minute," she said, her voice a little louder. It still wavered. It still was higher pitched with fear and pain and the sadness that was right on the edge of her mind. Edward said nothing but pulled her into his arms, wrapping himself around her as she buried her face in his chest, taking deep breaths to try and inhale his scent enough that she would remember it. She didn't want to forget anything about him. She wanted him with her always. He held her tightly, didn't let go for several minutes, didn't say a word, just breathed in slowly, shaking slightly.

"Bella," he said eventually. She pulled away minutely to look in his eyes. And she knew. It was time for her to go.

"Bella, I…," he murmured. But he stopped. The words were trapped behind his lips. But she nodded anyway.

"I know, Edward. I know. So do I."

He half smiled, the expression faltering on his face. She tried to smile back at him but it seemed she couldn't make herself even pretend to be happy. Edward leaned down and cupped her face in his hands, the calluses on his palms and fingers familiar to her skin, the smell of earth and smoke and work filling her nose as she breathed in. She closed her eyes as he leaned in to her, pressing his lips against her closed eye lids, her cheeks, her nose, her jaw, her forehead, her temples and then finally her lips. He kissed her mouth with as much passion and love and fervor as he could manage.

It still felt like goodbye.

"Run, Bella. Run. Don't look back, don't stop."

She nodded. And then she walked past him, out of the tent. The camp was in chaos, men readying for battle, getting weapons, armor, saying prayers, sharpening tools, putting out fires. She walked by each of them, none of them stopping her or even glancing her way. She could feel Edward's eyes on her as she walked the direction he had told her. Northwest. She could go now, never look back and be safe. She took a breath as she crossed the invisible line between the camp and the rest of the world and she broke out into a run.

She ran as fast as she could for as long as she could. She ran until her legs felt like lead, until her muscles screamed in unbearable agony, until her every breath was like inhaling water, until it hurt her to even think about running, let alone actually picking up her feet and making it happen. But Edward had told her to run and not look back and not stop, so that was what she was going to do. So she kept along the forest path that she recognized, getting closer and closer to home. She made herself fly along the ground, move faster than she had ever moved in her life, to be safe, to do what Edward asked her to do. She had to. She ran and ran until she saw her house in the distance, until it got closer, until she was right before it. Only then did she stop, and when she did, she immediately collapsed on the ground in painful, shaking sobs. She wanted to scream she hurt so badly. She was miserable there on the ground. She was safe, surely, safe and she would soon be in a warm bed and sit at a table to eat food that wasn't cooked over and open fire pit, but she _hurt_.

Her father found her on the ground outside the house a few minutes after she collapsed and immediately brought her inside to put her in bed. Bella couldn't move, hardly found it in her to talk, and her father in his limited but useful wisdom told her to sleep and didn't bother her again. She slept for the rest of the day and halfway into the next. When she woke up she rolled over in her bed and couldn't remember where she was. There was no place in the camp that was comfortable as where she was. Had she died? Was this heaven, a warm comfortable bed? But then she remembered the day before, the morning that had looked as though it would be decent enough and had ended in her running away from camp, from certain death, from Edward.

She felt positively ill at the thought and so she pushed it away. She got out of bed quietly, carefully, slowly. Her legs still protested movements that put too much pressure on them after what she done to them the day before, but she made them carry her into her kitchen. Her father was sitting at the kitchen table, not doing anything but staring out the kitchen window in silence.

When he noticed Bella, he immediately got up. He crossed the room to her and told her to sit. He asked if she wanted anything to eat or drink. She declined food but asked for water, which he immediately gave her.

They sat in silence while she drank her water, and he refilled her glass when she asked him to. She had finished three before he spoke.

"Bella…where have you been?" he asked. She almost laughed. Charlie was a lot of things, kind, patient, understanding. But he certainly wasn't tactful.

"I," she began. But the words got caught in her throat. She didn't know what to say. Her whole body felt overcome with an ache she couldn't soothe.

"I got lost," she told him. "I was walking in the woods and I got lost. I got caught in a rain storm and I got sick. A band of travelers found me somehow, they cared for me while I was ill. When I was better they told me how to get home."

She had never lied to her father before, but she needed to lie then. She couldn't possibly tell him the truth, or anything even close to it. Charlie was a fiercely loyal man, and he had passed that trait on to Bella. She didn't forget who Edward was, couldn't possibly forget even if she wanted to. His persona as The Captain pervaded some of the time they spent together, so even with her best efforts she remembered him as the captain of forces that had killed men. Men she knew. Men her father had known. Good men.

But she knew that Edward was also a good man. He did his work because he believed in it. Because he thought it was right. And he wasn't as uncaring or brutal as she had assumed he must be to slaughter friends and brothers and fathers. He was merciful. He was kind. He was fair. He did what he believed to be the right thing even in the face of adversity or danger or death. And he had loved her. Bella knew it. He had tried to say it, and even though the words hadn't come out, the intent was clear.

And so she lied. She protected him because she had to. Because she loved him to and she couldn't betray him. Charlie might understand if she told him she had fallen in love, told him what Edward had done to save her. But the thought of what might happen if he didn't made her choose to lie. And Charlie being as accepting and honest as he was never gave a second thought to Bella's story, assuming it to be true. Why should he ever think otherwise?

He didn't ask any other questions and Bella didn't offer any other explanations. They sat another moment in silence before her father announced he was going into town to do some trading, and Bella nodded, said nothing, and continued to sit at the table as she heard him leave.

She didn't even realize she was crying until she looked down and saw the tear drops on the table.

* * *

A month passed in quietness. The news of Bella's disappearance and her subsequent return was news for a little while, but Bella being the woman she was played it down to be her own stupidity that got her into the situation in the first place and said nothing more about it when anyone asked her. She spent time at home cleaning, cooking for herself and her father. She went to the market and bought food, she helped her father when he went to trade. She hardly spoke to anyone outside her father and Rosalie when she happened by. But the visits were becoming more infrequent because of her introversion and refusal to open up. She knew she was driving people away, but she didn't feel like she was whole anymore, like she was only part of the Bella they knew and she couldn't stand being with them and having to pretend.

Late spring had passed and soft summer had come on. Days of balmy heat and nights of breezy comfort passed by her. She felt the warm air surround her as she walked through her tiny town, to the mill she and her father tended and was not swayed by its pleasant sensation. The only pleasure she was able to get was from working with her father in the mill or in their garden. She planted vegetables. She spent days plowing entire fields. She harvested, she tended, she walked and ran and made her body work.

It felt good to make her muscles move, to make them do something. If she was moving, doing something she could never think. She didn't have time to wonder about whether Edward was dead or alive, if he was okay or not, where he was, what he was doing. The moments when she did have time to think about it, she really didn't want to.

"Bella?" Rosalie said. Bella snapped her attention back to her close friend, the only person who bothered to really pay attention to her outside her father. She smiled halfheartedly at Rosalie and asked her what she had been saying. In truth, their entire visit so far had completely slipped through her memory. She had been thinking about Edward again, hard as she tried not to.

"You haven't heard a word I have said this entire afternoon, have you?" she asked. Bella flushed bright red and shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Rosalie, really I am. I know I am being an awful friend," she apologized, attempting good hearted laughter and failing miserably.

"Bella, I have known you our entire lives. You talked to me when your mother died, when you didn't think you had enough money, when your life was hard, you talked to me. Now something is wrong, I know it is wrong, and you won't say anything. You either work yourself to death or you stare off into space. You hardly speak. I can understand if you don't want to talk to Charlie, but you have to talk to _someone_."

Bella stared at her, biting her lip.

"I…I wouldn't know what to say," she answered, her voice almost a whisper.

"Why don't you just tell me what really happened to you and we can go from there," Rosalie suggested. There was a long pause.

"I didn't get lost," Bella admitted. Rosalie nodded. "I was captured. I was…in the wrong place at the wrong time, and scouts of the rebel army camps found me, and took me to their captain."

Bella stopped right there, unable to form other words or think. She didn't really need to say anything else though. Rosalie took one look at her, the way her eyes welled with tears, her mouth became a grim line of loss and sadness and fear, and she knew.

"What was his name?" she asked. Bella drew a shaky breath and answered her. If the name was familiar to her, Rosalie did not give any indication.

"You fell in love with him," she stated. She didn't need to ask. It was obvious.

"He saved me, Rosalie. His superiors told him to kill me, but he didn't. He couldn't. He was kind, and passionate, and beautiful. He risked his being dismissed, being exiled, being killed for me, this woman that he didn't even know. He gave me…he gave me time to experience things I never thought I could.

"And now…when I left, there were troops marching on him. I don't know where he is, or what he is doing, or if he is okay. I have to work, Rosalie, I have to keep busy, or I think about him. I think about how much I miss him, and how much I love him and how _terrified_ I am that he is dead, or dying, or hurt somewhere out there and I don't know it, and I'm not with him. That no matter what happens, I might not ever get to see him again. He is somewhere in the world, and I am here, and it feels like someone took a part of me and won't give it back."

"Oh Bella," Rosalie said, holding her arms out for her. Bella, surprised at herself, let Rosalie embrace her had couldn't help the tears that formed in her eyes or help as they spilled over.

"He _made_ me leave, Rosalie, he made me. I would have stayed," she said.

"I know, Bella, I know."

"I would have stayed," she said again. Rosalie hushed her, rocked her, rubbed her back.

When Rosalie left that afternoon Bella felt both relieved to have told the truth and sick to her stomach. Talking about it, admitting how afraid she was made her want to throw up. Because he _was_ in the world, he was in danger every single day. And every moment she was away from Edward, it was another moment she didn't know if he was alive or dead, in pain or just fine, far or near.

So she worked in the gardens and the fields, she worked in town with her father, she cleaned, she cooked, she never stopped moving until she was so tired she physically _couldn't_ move, and only then could she sleep with staying up thinking about Edward.

Summer's middle and most heat came and went with sweat and work; time spent toiling in the long daylight hours. When August came Bella harvested the vegetables from the small garden she and her father kept and was weeding it, digging her fingers into the earth to pull the roots of the weeds out of the ground when she noticed a figure coming up the drive to her home. She stood up, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her arm so she didn't get soil on her face. She watched as the figure got closer, the silhouette gradually gaining features, not being blotted out by the sun so completely.

The man was tall, broad across the shoulders, solid in form. His walk was determined, an even pace, long strides from long legs. He wore plain linen clothes, boots, carried nothing in his hands or on his back. His relentlessly disheveled copper colored hair blew in every which direction in the summer breeze. His face was clean shaven, carved like a statue, like a marble creation, like an artist's version of an angel or a god. His eyes, so bright green they seemed like emeralds sparkled in the late afternoon sun.

Bella couldn't breathe. She couldn't think, couldn't move, couldn't do anything for a whole moment. He was five feet from her and she couldn't do a damn thing but stare at him, arms limply at her sides, lips parted in utter shock. And then the moment passed and before he could say a single thing to her, she had closed the space between them and launched herself at him, crashing into his arms, sending him backwards a few steps. She wrapped herself so tightly around him that she knew even if he wanted to he couldn't have moved away from her. She breathed in, smelling the distinct scent of Edward, a smell she had missed dearly. When she finally pulled away she had spent at least five minutes with his arms around her in complete silence.

She pulled away, not completely out of his arms—she didn't have the strength to leave his arms completely—and looked him in the face. For more immeasurable moments in silence she just looked him in the face. She memorized every single line and angle of his sculpted features, the shape of his eyes, the gentle curve of his mouth.

"What are you doing here?" she finally asked in a whisper. She was afraid to speak, sure that as soon as she did he was going to disappear. This moment was too good, too perfect to be real. Edward smiled and Bella's heart nearly beat out of her chest. She had forgotten how beautiful that smile was.

"After you left, there was a skirmish of sorts. It wasn't an all out battle, but there were casualties. They put up a white flag to talk truce, and they said their higher ups wanted to settle this matter once and for all. After that, it was all about the superiors talking things over, making treaties and agreements," he explained.

"So…it is over now?" she questioned.

"For now, yes. My superiors gave their demands and the opposing forces were willing to give in to some of them, so they made treaties and truces and have decided to end the fighting. Really it is all word play, bringing everything to a shaky halt. Bureaucratic bastards," he said with a bit of a laugh.

"And you came here?"

Edward's face softened. He lowered his mouth to touch his lips to her forehead before leaning down to her ear.

"Where else would I possibly want to go?" he asked back. Bella felt a smile spread across her face. She moved her face a bit to touch her lips to his. They kissed once, briefly. And then again and again, each kiss growing in intensity and passion and need. It had been so long since Bella had felt whole, since she had been at peace, and all it had taken to make it so was Edward right there in front of her.

After they had parted their lips for the last time, both breathing heavily and happily, Edward pulled Bella back into his arms tightly, just holding her to him. She was happy to stay just that way forever, to never move, to never go anywhere but stay in that same position.

"Marry me, Bella," Edward said after a few moments. Bella nearly choked on the air she was inhaling. She drew back to look at him, confused.

"What did you just say?" she asked, bewilderment in her voice.

"I said 'marry me, Bella'. I want you to marry me."

"But…but _why_?"

"Bella, I am a man who risks his life for his career. Every day could be the day I die. And before I met you, that was exciting, it was intrinsic in the job and it made my life interesting. But every day since the day I laid eyes on you, all I could think was, God I hope I live to see another day so I can be with _her_. You are more beautiful and charming and intelligent than you know and I knew as soon as soon as I invited you to come to my tent to learn to throw a punch that I was lost. I love you, Bella. I love you more than I have ever loved anything. And I don't want to spend a single day without you ever again. I want to wake up beside you, I want to fall asleep with you in my arms and I want to live all my moments between those times knowing that you are mine, that I am yours and that you love me as much as I love you. I want to marry you. I want to be with you always."

"Edward…" she began, trying to put words to what was going on inside her mind. There were so many thoughts and emotions that trying to name them and express them was becoming impossible.

"I…I can understand if you have…moved on," he began.

"Never," she answered before he was able to finish, "never. I was miserable without you. I do not…do not think I could ever spend that much time without you ever again. But Edward, you said it yourself, your career as a military man puts your life in danger every single day. What if something happens to you, what if you get hurt or―"

Edward covered her mouth with a kiss to stop her words.

"I forgot one of the most important pieces to this proposal. After the treaties were enacted, the rebel forces of course remain intact in case fighting breaks out again. The men know where to assemble if they are called on again. But they will have a different captain. I was promoted, for excellence in the field and as a commanding officer. You are looking at Major General Edward Cullen. I will be in charge of organizing battle plans, overseeing movements of troops, strategy and assignment of new officers. I won't be anywhere near the battle field if I do not wish to be. I have earned the right not to risk my life in battle. I will not be fighting any time soon.

"We can have a home, have a life. I can be home with you every night when you fall asleep and you will not have to worry about my safety when I am gone. I never thought I would want to live a life like that, without risk and excitement. But you, Bella, you are my life now, no matter what I do. The risks seem unnecessary to me now, the excitement has lost its appeal. You are all I want. I just need to know if I am what you want," he told her.

"You are always what I want, Edward. I couldn't imagine being with anyone else," she replied. He grinned.

"So let us try this the right way," he suggested, backing away a bit before getting down on one knee. From his pocket he produced a small shining thing, a gold ring with a brightly colored sapphire in its center. He held it up to her. "Bella Swan, will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

"Yes," she whispered in response. Edward immediately rose to his feet, caught her up in his arms, and swung her around in a delighted circle. When he set her down he covered her face in kisses, telling her he loved her after each and every one.

After he had ceased his kisses he slipped the ring into her finger. She looked down at it.

"Where did you get this?" she asked, turning her hand and watching the summer sun glint over it.

"It was my mother's engagement ring to my father. They died when I was a little boy, but I always knew I wanted to give this to the woman I would marry."

Bella smiled up at him. And then a movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention and her stomach plummeted to the ground. The form of her father was small now on the path to their home, but it was growing steadily larger and closer.

"My father is coming home from the town. I am going to have to tell him who you are…" she whispered unhappily.

"What did you tell him about where you were for all that time?"

"Lost. And then sick. I lied to him and now I am going to have to tell him the truth, or some version of it. He isn't going to like you, you understand."

"I know that. But he will understand," he assured her.

"I am not so sure."

"Bella, are you…afraid to talk to your father about this?" Edward asked tentatively. Bella sighed and nodded, looking to him for some kind of reassurance.

He laughed.

"I do not see what is so funny, Edward Cullen," she said, her voice having turned sour.

"You spent weeks in a camp of military men, facing certain death each and every day, and yet you were brave, never showed an ounce of fear in the wake of danger and death. You injured one of my men even! And yet your father terrifies you? I am sorry, my little Bella, but there is humor to be found in that."

Bella grumbled under her breath as she watched her father approaching. Edward leaned down and kissed the spot right under her ear.

"I am here with you, Bella. I will always be there with you. You do not ever have to be afraid again," he whispered to her, before straightening, taking her hand and waiting with her for her father to come to them.

And Bella was, as promised, never, ever afraid again.

**Hooray for happy endings! (sort of, because the epilogue is still to come!) If you liked this happy ending, or have toher thoughts, let me know!**


	6. Epilogue

**So, my dears, here is the epilogue you've been waiting 900 years for, I hope it gives you some warm and fuzzies :)**

* * *

She really, _really_ had to pee. But without Edward's help getting up, she wasn't going to be able to make it out of her chair. Her stomach was so swollen with their child, she was sure she must be carrying twins. Why else would she be the size of a small house?

"Edward…help!" she cried as she tried to rock herself forward and out of the chair. She was drastically unsuccessful. Her feet felt like stones, her ankles like sausages. She was useless for anything other than nourishing the tiny person growing inside her.

How could she have known, for all those weeks when she was separated from him, throwing herself into work in the summer heat, digging and planting and growing that she was, in fact, with child? She had attributed the nausea and restlessness with grief and worry and the unyielding emptiness she had felt for so, so long. And when Edward had returned she had felt such joy, unwavering radiance that she just couldn't suppress.

Until Rosalie, tactfully as always, asked her one night after she had hosted dinner her family and Bella's, if she thought her recent weight gain might in fact be the swelling of the growth of a child. Given her sickness and interestingly keen sense of smell, in combination with her slightly swollen belly, she had to admit it was a possibility. Bella had touched her stomach gingerly, like she was afraid that by touching it she might, in fact, be creating or confirming such a thing.

"You two _did_ make love, did you not?" Rosalie had asked. Bella's cheeks flamed. Rose chuckled and patted her shoulder. "Perhaps you should move your wedding up some."

She had dreaded telling Edward; what if he did not want to have a child? Things were still so tense, both with his work and at home. Since he and Bella had not yet married, he had to visit her at her father's house, who was less than thrilled with their engagement. Charlie knew who Edward was, and was willing to forgive him most evils for saving his daughter, but could not overcome his suspicions of continuous wrongdoing, no matter what good things he had done to balance them out. Bella understood his skepticism, she had herself felt doubt of his character when they had met. She knew that he could come off as blustering and over confidant; to Charlie he was a somewhat brash man personally responsible for both the murder of his friends and the safety of his daughter. She could only hope that things would get better in time.

So when she broached the subject of what she realized now was a more or less certain pregnancy, she had been anxious. But Edward more than surprised her. He was ecstatic. Nothing, he said, could have made him happier. He had always wanted a child and had always been afraid that he would not live to see that child grow up, because of his position and the ongoing struggles. But not that things were simmering down, and he had been promoted, he could have a whole gaggle of children and enjoy every one of them.

"Perhaps we should start at one and see how that goes," she had replied. He laughed, kissed her full on the mouth, moonlight filtering through the late summer leaves. She was so happy.

Moving up the wedding would have been next to impossible without telling Charlie why. She thought it best to tell him on her own, even though Edward had tried to stay.

"He'll listen to me," Bella argued, "he'll only get angry at you. You'll be the murderer and the man who impregnated his daughter, and I don't trust him around you when he gets that news."

Edward had begrudgingly agreed to go back to his own house, which was conveniently only down the road a bit, but promised to come back if she sent for him. They parted, and Bella nearly fainted for fear of telling her father.

Instead of getting angry, Charlie hadn't spoken to her for three days. She had a distinct feeling that he had, at various points, gone out walking in the woods to break a few things or maybe cry, but when he sat down with at the table days later, he was calm. He said he couldn't change the way things were, even if he might have wanted to. She was going to marry Edward, and he was going to be the father of her child. He could see there was no way to get around it now. His polite resignation was not the ringing endorsement she craved in her deepest heart, but it was not a refusal or a rebuke. She would take what she could get.

Their wedding was small. Rosalie, Emmett and Charlie were the only guests in attendance. She wasn't showing quite enough for anyone to tell she was with child if she had not told them, but her mother's wedding dress, the one her father had given her to wear, was slightly more snug on her stomach than she would have liked. But in the end, the too tight dress, the small ceremony, the limited company, none of it mattered. She remembered back to the moment when Edward told her they were never going to see each other again. He had told her, without telling her, that he loved her, but they couldn't be together and she had believed him. She had never been so happy to be wrong.

She moved out of Charlie's house and into Edward's, which was much the same, if not slightly more Spartan and efficient. She settled into her new home and Edward helped put together a room for the baby, as her stomach continued to grow as their child grew. Eventually, she was so swollen she knew it was only a matter of weeks, or maybe even days until they had their baby.

And she was stuck now, in a chair. She got stuck frequently, in bed, at the table, in her chair. She was a relatively small woman, and it seemed like her pregnant belly was now over half of her person.

"Edward!" she called again, more urgently. He ducked into the room and saw her attempting to stand. He tried to conceal his laughter as he pulled her up to a standing position.

"Don't laugh at your pregnant wife!"

"I'm sorry, my lovely. You look radiant and as always, are absolutely correct. I shouldn't laugh at you."

She spared him a moment to throw him a dirty look but then rushed off to pee. It felt like the greatest relief of her life.

When she waddled back into the house, Edward was in his study, looking over papers and maps. She paused in the doorway to watch him as he studied his work, chewing his lip absently. He was the most attractive man she had ever seen. She knew it the moment she set eyes on him at the campsite, all dirty with ash and dirt. She knew it as he danced her around in a meadow in the middle of a thunder storm, she knew it as he was telling her goodbye for what he thought was the last time, and she knew it when she had jumped back into his arms when he came back to her. She had also known, she realized now, that she was going to have no choice but to love him all those times, too.

He noticed her staring at him and looked up at her. She smiled.

"Have you thought of a name yet?" she asked. They had agreed that he would get to name the baby if it was a girl, and she would choose the name if they had a son. She had decided on Jacob for a boy, but Edward couldn't make up his mind. He had at first thought of Alice or Esme or Renee, but had discarded them all. He was being uncharacteristically indecisive.

"I have a few in my mind," he replied. "I will choose when I look on her face."

"Or you won't have to, because we are having a son," she teased. They had both tried to guess the sex of the child as well; Bella adamantly argued for a boy, and Edward was convinced it would be a daughter. Admittedly, they agreed they wouldn't treasure the child regardless, but there was no harm in taking guesses.

Edward rose from his seat with a smile and made his way to his wife, whom he kissed first on the forehead, then on the mouth, then bent and laid one last kiss on her stomach. He laid his palms and his cheek against her belly and said hello to the baby. Bella giggled. She loved to hear him talk to the baby; he was going to be a wonderful father.

"Come!" he said, standing up, "let's go to the kitchen and I will make my pregnant wife some dinner." Bella knew she was spoiled. She loved every second of it.

* * *

Rosalie stopped by every afternoon to see how Bella was coming along. She wasn't just a nurse, she was also a midwife, and Bella counted herself lucky that it was her best friend she would be trusting to bring her child into the world. So every day Rosalie clucked over her, how her stomach had dropped, she called it, and how that meant she was going to have her child any day. She asked after how Bella was feeling, how Edward was faring, if they were nervous, how his work was going, if she had ever grasped knitting or if she was going to give it up altogether.

At the end of her visit she did what Edward always did, and put her face right up against Bella's stomach. It was no mystery to Bella that she was desperate to start her own family. She had watched Bella's pregnancy develop with both envy and admiration. But when it came to her job as Bella's midwife she took nothing so serious; Bella was, according to Rose, moving along at exactly the right speed.

"The moment you feel the contractions, you send for me, do you understand?" she said before she went out the door.

"Of course, doctor," Bella said flippantly. She had been getting the same speech for the past two weeks, every day. Rosalie gave her a playfully withering look and ducked back outside. Bella settled into her chair with a book and read her way through the humid afternoon, feeling her son or daughter kicking and playing, so close to coming into the world.

It was just about the time she finished her book when she felt a crippling pain rip through her. She gasped at the suddenness of the pain, which was gone as quickly as it had come on. She breathed slowly, trying to steady herself. Before she could get back to an equilibrium, another pain left her stunned in its wake.

"Edward!" she called frantically. She winced and held her stomach. "EDWARD!"

"Bella do you need help getting up again?" he asked, as he rounded the corner to get to her. When he saw her grimacing in pain he went to her, immediately sobered.

"Is something wrong? Are you okay?" he asked, clasping her hand.

"Send for Rosalie, now," she commanded, through gritted teeth.

Rosalie arrived within ten minutes. Her house was only a few minutes away, and she must have run all the way there. The pain was getting closer and closer together. Edward looked panicked and lost. His hair was standing up on end as he continually ran his hands through it when he was holding Bella's hand so she could squeeze it through the pain of the contractions. With Rosalie's help, Bella got up from the chair and they were able to get her to the bed where she was going to give birth. Edward stared down at his shaking, sweating wife with anxiety in his eyes. Hers were jammed shut as she rode out another contraction. She opened them wide and breathed out. Rosalie was bustling about, getting the things she had left at their home in preparation of the coming of their child. Bella reached again for his hand and smiled wanly.

"Strap on your armor, soldier," she said quietly, "we're about to go into battle."

Edward laughed, and the world again made sense.

* * *

"Have you decided on a name yet?" Rosalie asked, the house finally quiet. The baby was in Bella's arms, swaddled in blankets. Both mother and child were fast asleep.

"I was thinking of calling her Lillian," Edward said, gazing with quiet loving at his wife and his perfect daughter. Rosalie nodded appreciatively, staring in the same direction as Edward.

"You're a very lucky man, Edward," she said quietly, so as not to wake either exhausted party. Edward sighed.

"I couldn't have said it any better myself."


End file.
